


A Path of Blood and Gold

by pentacle



Series: The Crystal Universe [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 59,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6861076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentacle/pseuds/pentacle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Arthur's immortal travels take them deep into the jungle and into more danger than they could have anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The previous stories in the Crystal Universe series will explain how Merlin and Arthur have come to this point, but this story should hopefully still be understandable if you don't want to read those first. Arthur and Merlin have travelled to an alternate universe to our own, so while aspects of this are based on Aztec/Mayan culture, it isn't intended as in any way historically accurate, (just as the Merlin TV series itself bears no real relation to British historical fact. :) ) 
> 
> Because of the nature of Aztec culture, be warned that the story will probably involve some goriness later.

A large stone thwacked into the tree on his left, leaving a deep indent in the bark as it bounced off, just a foot to the side and it would have caved in the back of his head. So much for getting his breath back. Arthur started running again, darting to the right, away from the owner of the slingshot, leaping tree roots and weaving between the close-set trunks. 

He had to start thinking strategically, until now he’d assumed he would be able to simply outrun them; almost two hundred years of training had left him with a strength and stamina that normal men couldn’t hope to match, but these warriors seemed to be keeping up with him with ease…he grimaced with frustration, just how were they doing that? But that was a question he could discuss with Merlin once he finally managed to shake these bastards off. With the dawning awareness of just how powerful his pursuers were, came the realisation that their aim was likely to be as fine as their fitness. Arthur muttered a swearword, he’d let himself become complacent, too secure in his own abilities for too long, and had badly underestimated his pursuers. It was obvious now, they weren’t hunting him, they were herding him; the stones that barely missed him were a way of driving him in the direction they wanted. 

Behind him and to the right a raucous squawk sounded, he’d seen enough parrots in his travels to recognise the sound, but he also knew that parrots lived high in the jungle canopy. His suspicions were confirmed a second later when an answering squawk came from somewhere ahead of him; the men were signaling each other. 

Right, that made one warrior ahead of him, one behind him to the right, another one behind him who had cast the most recent stone…another squawk!…and another over there… that made four. Just four to one, if he’d had his knife he would have stopped far earlier and taken on those odds, but it was just as well that he hadn’t, if he’d stopped to fight them before he found out what supernatural stamina they seemed to possess he would have been seriously caught out. As it was, he had no choice but running, he’d glimpsed the substantial wooden swords studded with what looked like fragments of black stone that they had slung across their backs, plus they had those evil slings. While he was kept busy engaging the first warrior, the other three of them could stand at a distance and take him down with those. In fact he wondered why they hadn’t brought the matter to a head sooner, why just shepherd him forwards when they could kill him or take him prisoner with ease. Unless his own strength and stamina had unnerved them as much as theirs had him? Perhaps they thought it safer to move him towards their camp where there would be more warriors to help them.

His best chance was to break away from the direction they wanted him to go. He deliberately turned left, leaping the massive bole of a fallen tree, landing with easy grace, and continuing to run almost without pause. His bare feet pounded rhythmically over the varying patches of hard packed dirt and a soft leaf mould that disintegrated and puffed like brown powder under his heels. He could feel the sweat running in rivulets down his bare back. The air was so hot and humid that it made it feel as though he wasn’t getting full lungfuls with every breath, it was bad enough walking, but running through it was absurdly tiring. He’d only been wearing knee-length breeches when the warriors had surprised him at the river edge. Fortunately many years of going barefoot when they were away from civilisation had left the soles of his feet as supple and tough as fine pink leather so he barely felt the sharp edges of broken twigs and stones on the jungle floor as he ran. 

A warning stone thudded into the tree to his left, but he ignored it and ran on. He ducked under some low branches, and as he was straightening the next stone hit him forcefully in the back of his upper left arm. It felt like being kicked by a horse, damn but that hurt something fierce! He wondered if the bone had fractured. Arthur gritted his teeth but refused to turn his course, wondering where they would aim the next missile and hoping that it wasn’t at his arm again, the idea of being struck in the same place made him feel slightly sick. The ground was starting to slope downward, he wondered if it would take him back down towards the river, if so he might be able to follow it down to where Merlin and he had made camp last night. Initially he’d thought he could easily lose his attackers in the jungle and keep their camp secret but now he wished he’d just raced back to his weapons and to Merlin’s help straight away.

He impulsively swerved around a tree and heard the harsh thump of the trunk taking another stone meant for him. One of the warriors was managing to maintain pace with him, but he could hear from their signals that his unexpected change of direction had left the other three struggling to catch up. 

A sudden drop in temperature made all the downy hair on his arms and neck stand up and the change was so startling that it made him break his stride. The jungle around him abruptly darkened as though a giant hand had been stretched across it and Arthur looked up in surprise and gasped in his first mouthful of cool air in weeks as he watched billowing clouds the colour of lead racing across the sun. 

A deafening rumble of thunder crashed across the sky and the force of it seemed to vibrate through his bones. As it echoed away the jungle seemed for a moment to hold its breath, then the pregnant silence was suddenly broken by millions of heavy raindrops rattling onto leaves. The visibility dropped immediately to a few yards as the wavering curtains of rain filtered the bright green around him into layers of dull olive. If ever his luck was in, then it was now, Arthur thanked whichever god might be watching over him and sprinted through the trees. The rain pounded on his skin like slingshot gravel and ran into his eyes half-blinding him. Leaves and low branches whipped across his chest and neck but he was too rain-blinded to avoid them, all he could do was put up his uninjured arm to protect his face and run blindly onwards, his consolation the fact that his pursuers would find it almost impossible to track him in this deluge.

The dirt was so dry and hard packed that the rain was settling on top of it in puddles and rapidly turning into a thousand rivulets that ran down the slopes like miniature rapids. His bare feet splashed through the deepening water and the leaf mould on the ground now squelched like mud between his toes. In case they were still trying to follow him, he changed direction, still heading down the slope but veering further to his left so that he would hopefully hit the river further downstream than they might expect.

By the time he eventually broke out of the cover of the trees and reached the river he was fairly sure that he was alone. The thunder was still rumbling discontentedly, but it seemed to be gradually moving away. The rain hadn’t yet started to ease off though and was churning the surface of the wide river and still falling so heavily that the far bank was lost in a grey haze. He could see the rising water beginning to pull loose branches off the riverbank to float downstream. He knew his escape had left him generally upstream from where he’d first encountered the warriors so all he had to do was follow the line of the river in the same direction as the wood was floating.

Now that he had paused, he realised his legs ached, he hadn’t run that far and fast for a while. He still didn’t know how they had managed to keep up with him, were they actually human or some sort of supernatural creature that inhabited this country. He used his right hand to cautiously twist his left arm so that he could get a look at the back of it, there was a massive blue-black bruise spreading across his upper arm, and as he prodded it gingerly the shocking pain made his eyes water and he had to blink away that as well as rain. Well, Merlin would no doubt fuss like a mother hen, he smiled, time to get back to him before he got anxious and took it into his head to start searching. Merlin was powerful enough to protect himself, but the idea of him running unexpectedly into those warriors made Arthur’s stomach flutter unhappily. A slingshot stone cast from the shelter of the trees, like the one that had hit Arthur’s arm, could shatter Merlin’s skull before he was even aware that there was someone there and knew to defend himself. 

Making his way back to camp proved easier said than done, as sometimes he was able make his way along the edge of the river, on patches of exposed gravel or scrubby grass, but more often overhanging trees and undergrowth grew right up to the waterline and he was be forced to sidetrack into the jungle and make detours until he could angle back to the water’s edge. Each time he had to divert into the jungle he found himself thrumming with tension and alert to accidentally running into his pursuers again. The ground had turned treacherously slippery and he often found himself wading laboriously through ankle-deep mud that made his legs ache and sucked at his feet as though reluctant to let him go. 

The rain had finally stopped when he saw a silver-blue light bobbing towards him through the trees, it swept towards him as light as a dandelion seed on the breeze until it stopped about a foot in front of him and bobbed gently in the air. Just the sight of it seemed to bring some of his energy back and he couldn’t help grinning. “Hello, Merlin, starting to get worried?” he said affectionately to the light, although he knew Merlin wouldn’t be able to hear him. The glimmering ball danced just ahead of him as he continued. When he broke out of the jungle yet again and onto another stretch of sandy riverbank, he realised that this time it looked vaguely familiar. The gravel spread in a broad arc around a bend in the river and the blue light suddenly sped up ahead of him, darting off down the shore and around the bend. 

A moment later he saw Merlin hurrying around the bend towards him, only wearing short breeches like himself. Arthur had tanned a rich honey brown under weeks of constant sun, but Merlin’s skin was still as resolutely milky pale as it had always been. They’d talked about it before, and Merlin wondered whether his immortal body might be ‘healing’ his skin as fast as it tanned, keeping him perpetually pale. Arthur quickly raised a hand to show he was alright, but Merlin didn’t seem at all reassured and broke into a run. Merlin started interrogating him about five feet before he actually reached him. “What happened, I had a terrible feeling something was wrong, but the light took ages to find you, how far away were you? Why did you go so…”

“I’m fine.” Arthur pulled him into a one armed hug. Merlin’s naked chest felt like it had a fire inside it and warmed the chilly skin of his own.

“You’re freezing, and what happened to your arm.” 

Arthur realised that while wrapped in the hug, Merlin had an excellent view over his shoulder and down the back of his arm. “It might be alright, but there’s a chance it could be broken.”

Merlin pulled away and circled behind him, when Arthur automatically tried to turn with him Merlin tutted and put one hand on his shoulder to hold him still. He manipulated the arm carefully, apologising when Arthur hissed in pain.

“It could be fractured, let’s get back to the camp and I’ll rig up a sling for it. That cold rain probably helped reduce the initial swelling a little, but you’ll need to keep it immobilised for a couple of weeks.”

“A fortnight?!”

Merlin snorted, “You’re lucky we heal so fast, a normal person would be wearing a sling for about six weeks.”

Arthur paused, then said quietly, “Gaius would be proud.”

Merlin’s gaze softened and he put a hand up to brush Arthur’s sodden fringe out of his eyes. “So what happened?”

“I seem to have upset the locals somehow.”

“That sounds like you, but I didn’t think you even knew the language, let alone the local word for baboon.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, “One of these days you are finally going to let the incident in Constantinople drop, it was a mistake anyone could have made and it’s been twenty years, for the Gods’ sake.”

Merlin smirked, “Seriously, what trouble did you run into now?”

“You say that like it’s a habit.”

Merlin looked at him.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Nothing of my doing this time. I was happily standing out in the river fishing and four armed warriors came out of nowhere. I’d stupidly left my knife up on the bank and had to run for it into the trees.”

Merlin looked confused, “You didn’t just outrun them?”

“Couldn’t, they ran as fast as I did.”

Merlin frowned, “That’s not possible…”

“I can tell you, it is.”

“For how long?”

“The only reason I got away was because this rainstorm started and I managed to lose them. We must have run for half an hour, I was going at top speed,” Arthur paused, “…given the difficulty of the surroundings… But they didn’t seem to be flagging at all.”

“No, that can’t be…” Merlin fell into silent thought as they started walking down the sand towards their camp. 

“You know the odd thing,” said Arthur after a moment, “they didn’t seem to be trying to kill me, they seemed to be trying to herd me in a particular direction. At the time I thought maybe they were as surprised by me as I was by them and were herding me towards reinforcements. But that doesn’t make any sense, the slingshot stone that hit my arm could just have easily hit my head and I’d have been dead on the spot.”

The cold must have been getting to Merlin as Arthur saw him shudder, Arthur slung his good arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pulled him into his side. 

“I think their aim was good enough,” Arthur continued, “they only actually hit me when I refused to be guided by the near misses that they were firing around me.”

“So they wanted you alive?”

“That’s what I’m thinking.”

“But why?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it.”

They’d reached their camp now, they’d made their shelter next to large tree trunk that had washed downstream and ended up on this stony beach, it made a handy seat beside the flickering campfire. The triangular shelter next to it was built from fallen tree branches that they’d pulled from the jungle and roofed with broad ribbed green leaves. A pot of something was simmering over the small fire.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for me to bring back fish, as I’m starving.”

“I gave up and killed some fish myself,” Merlin wiggled his fingers to indicate how he’d done it, “peculiar looking fish though and I think they’re full of bones, worse than pike I wouldn’t surprised. It’s a bit of a pathetic fish stew, as we’ve run out of the vegetables we brought with us and I’ve no idea what around here is edible.”

“Bony fish in hot water, Mmmm!”

Merlin lightly punched Arthur’s good arm. “You cook next time. Anyway, do we have time to stay here and eat, or do we need to strap up your arm and move?”

“Move where?” said Arthur, “We’ve no idea what direction those men came from, if we decamp and move we might be moving closer to them rather than further away.”

“I don’t like this at all.” 

“Neither do I.” Arthur sat down on the tree trunk and warmed his hands at the fire while Merlin ducked into the shelter. 

Merlin returned some minutes later with a small leather bottle and the remains of one of his faded blue tunics that he’d ripped into long strips and then tied together. He sat beside Arthur and for a few minutes there was silence as he made Arthur bend his left arm so that it was held comfortably across his chest before binding it efficiently into a sling to support it. “That should do it.” He reached behind him on the gravel for where he’d put the leather bottle and raised it to Arthur’s mouth. “Take a good swig, it’s water with willow bark extract, should help dull the pain a bit.” His mouth was held in a little moue of concentration while he watched Arthur drink that Arthur found absolutely entrancing. 

As soon as Merlin lowered the bottle, Arthur leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips, “Thanks.”

Merlin flushed and grinned. “You seem comfortable now, I’ll get you some bony fish in hot water.”

“You spoil me.”

Merlin snorted. “You’re an arse, Arthur Pendragon. Well, it’s your turn to cook next and I’m expecting something remarkable.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Merlin paused in spooning food into a wooden bowl, and gave him a long measured look. His face was serious, but the firelight flickered golden in amused eyes that totally belied his expression, “No,” he said, “it really isn’t.”

“That armoured little pig thing I caught…”

“Was bloody disgusting…”

“It was not, it tasted a lot like like pork.”

“Burnt pork.”

“I only fell asleep for five minutes, it didn’t really burn…”

“The outside was black!”

They continued bickering during the meal in the old familiar way that made them both feel wonderfully, comfortably at home. Much later, when the food was long gone, and they’d discussed the pursuit at length, and after Arthur had slipped down to sit on the gravel with the warm wooden trunk solid against his back and the dying fire warming his feet, Merlin let out a tired sigh.

“I’m going to try calling Kilgharrah before we turn in. Maybe he’s back within range.”

“It’s a bit soon.”

“Can’t do any harm to try,” shrugged Merlin rising to his feet, “after today, I wouldn’t be sorry to move onto somewhere new.” 

Arthur watched him lazily, finding his interest stirring as he watched the play of warm firelight across Merlin’s flat stomach and cool moonlight across his broad angular shoulders. His arm was starting to hurt quite badly again, but he was sure another good swig of willow bark would subdue the pain enough to let him move… And if Merlin was on top…well, Arthur might not have to move that much anyway…

Merlin caught the direction of his gaze and rolled his eyes in exasperation, but his mouth was smiling. “Really? You don’t think a quiet night’s sleep would do you good?”

Arthur shrugged as best he could with one arm.

Merlin shook his head and tilted his face up to the stars. He began the call to the dragon, intoning the ancient language in a deep commanding bass totally unlike his normal voice, as before, there was something about the call that sent a shudder of something deep and half-known quivering like a muscle spasm through Arthur’s chest and through his thighs to settle straight into his groin. For some reason it was something he’d never seemed able to discuss with Merlin, perhaps because it made him feel like a beast of some kind, something that could be commanded and called at will. He had nothing in common with the dragon surely, but still the voice seemed to call to him, and he wondered what would happen if Merlin ever deliberately directed it at him. His distraction was broken when Merlin suddenly fell silent in mid sentence and crashed to his knees.

Merlin swayed on his knees for a few seconds, before Arthur had a chance to react, and then he pitched over onto his side.

“Merlin!” Arthur scrambled over to him in a panic, wondering if he’d turn Merlin over to find an arrow in his back. But when he reached his side Merlin didn’t seem to have a mark on him. “Merlin, can you hear me,” Arthur tapped his cheek lightly, his skin looked ghostly. To Arthur’s relief Merlin’s eyelids fluttered and after a few moment they opened, he seemed to have trouble focusing and Arthur gently brushed his hand along the line of his face and down to cup his neck, feeling the reassurance of a strong, steady pulse. 

“Merlin, was it Kilgharrah?”

“What?” Merlin still seemed disorientated. Arthur was about to repeat the question when Merlin answered, “No, not Kilgharrah, he must still be out of range. It was something else. Something heard me.”

Arthur frowned, “Another dragon? Here?”

“No, not another dragon…something else…something very old, and…” Merlin paused as Arthur helped him to sit up, “It sounds ridiculous, Arthur, but I can’t think of any better word to describe it than evil, and…I think it might be insane…and now it knows we’re here.”


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin blinked awake to pale lemon light gleaming in through the triangular mouth of the low shelter, beside him the rough mattress of leaves and grasses was flattened but empty. For a brief instant he felt anxious, but then realised that he could hear the sounds of Arthur doing his regular morning training nearby. As usual they’d slept naked, the only things Merlin never took off were his wedding ring and the round pendant that Arthur had given him on the day he’d asked Merlin to become his consort. He automatically passed his fingers over the body-warmed silver, The Pendragon side of the pendant was facing outward this morning, the once crisp embossing was worn into a vague, bumpy memory of its original self but he could still feel the mound of the dragon’s body and the outline of its wings and he smiled. He sat up then shuffled along on his bottom to reach the shelter entrance. Once there he could see that Arthur had rekindled the embers of the fire and flames were licking around the base of the small, iron cook-pot. Arthur was stretched out to one side of the fire, doing one armed press-ups on his uninjured arm. The sky was brightening from indigo to pale turquoise green and the sun was a brilliant white disc just cresting the distant mountains. Merlin could already feel the air beginning to warm up and sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

“Been up long?”

“A while,” Arthur grunted, “I’m almost finished. There’s hot water on, if you can find something to put in it.” 

“I never thought I’d long for cabbage, I wish I knew what here plants are safe to eat here. How’s your arm?”

Arthur pushed himself to his feet, brushing his palm off on the leg of his cut-off breeches to clean it . “It’s frustrating not to be able to train properly, but not hurting too badly.”

Merlin looked around for his own breeches and found them screwed up in a loose ball just inside the opening of the shelter. He shuddered as he remembered the hand-sized spider from a week ago, then stood up with the breeches gingerly held between finger and thumb and shook them out thoroughly before feeling safe enough to slip them on. That done he hastened over to Arthur to test the looseness of the sling and readjust it. 

”Really, leave it, it’s fine.”

Merlin gently held the hand protruding from the sling. “Stop if it hurts but try and bend your hand upward at the wrist?”

Arthur sighed but dutifully raised his hand.

Merlin ran his fingertips over the back of Arthur’s hand, Merlin had lost the top joint of his right little finger some years back when they’d been caught up in a battle in Egypt, he usually forgot about it, but now he noticed it afresh as his pale fingers contrasted with the deep tan of Arthur’s skin. It was a constant reminder that while they might be immortal, they certainly weren’t invulnerable. He paused before pressing gently on the skin near Arthur’s thumb and across the knuckles of his first and second fingers. “Can you feel that?”

“Perfectly.” Arthur caught up his hand and kissed his fingertips, including the smooth stump that ended his smallest finger.

Merlin felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sunlight, “Do you need some more willow bark?”

“Don’t fuss!”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could use magic to speed things up. All the things I’ve learned to do, yet I still can’t heal. I don’t understand it.”

“You heal with magic all the time.”

“Give a helpful push to medicines yes, but that was something even Gaius could do, and he never claimed to be much of a sorcerer…” Merlin looked on the ground around them for a twig, then picked it up and snapped it. He laid the two halves across the palm of his left hand and murmured a spell. The magic tingled out of his hand and into the wood, his mind could follow its course as it surged like water along the lines that the sap had once taken, pulling the two halves of the stick together and knitting the wood around it as it went, until the twig sat on his palm unbroken. “…I’m supposed to be one of the most powerful sorcerers alive, why can’t I do that with your humerus?”

“Maybe it’s some sort of protection.”

Merlin flinched, “I know I’m not a proper physician, but I think I’m good enough that people wouldn’t need protection.”

“Not protection for the patient, clay-head, I meant protection for you.”

“Clay-head? Really?” Merlin raised his eyebrows.

Arthur smirked, “It came to me while I was training this morning.”

“Hours to think and that’s the best insult you came up with?”

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“Let’s see…” Merlin tilted his head and looked pensively at the sky, “…donkey-pizzle, mouse-wits, pig’s-arse, squid-brains…”

There was a brief pause. “Anyway,” said Arthur, “to get back to the subject, you’re being ridiculously modest, you’re a probably a better physician now than almost anyone else alive. I just think it would be disastrous for you to be able to heal magically.”

Merlin could feel his ears burning at the praise and found it easiest to ignore it, “How could it possibly be bad, I find healing spells draining, but I’d happily be weak for a day or two if I could help someone.”

“Exactly!” said Arthur. “And how many plagues have we seen on our travels, and how many women have you had to tend who died in childbirth, and in every city we travel through, how many people do we pass with leprosy or the falling sickness or the King’s Evil or countless other diseases. And would you LIKE to be able to have the ability to cure them? Because you aren’t going to have the strength or time to cure them all, even if you spend every hour of every day. So then you’ll have to choose which ones to help, which people will live and which you are going to let die.”

Merlin turned the idea over in his mind; what would it do to him over the years to constantly have to ignore people, even children, that he could heal with a wave of his hand. It would change him, he knew that much, perhaps he would be able to achieve a cool indifference to human suffering in time. If he managed that, he didn’t know how much of what he thought of as ‘Merlin’ would be left. 

“Not to mention,” continued Arthur more gently, “that it would put you in terrible danger. If the ruler of a city finds out what you could do, however noble they might be…and a good number of them aren’t…they are going to weigh up your freedom against the health of every person in the city. Gods! They’d find some way to lock you up and set you to healing every subject who ever gets ill or has an accident. They’d be the most popular ruler in history, and you’d be turned into something like a chained milk cow. A chained immortal milk cow passed down from one ruler to the next.”

“When you put it like that.”

“I don’t know if magic just isn’t meant to be used that way, or whether your magic is protecting you from you own good nature, but I’ve seen the hours you’ve put in to trying to enhance your healing magic and I don’t think it’s going to happen. And maybe I’m being selfish, but I can’t help being relieved that it isn’t improving.”

Merlin sighed, “I think you’re right, it’s rare, but it’s been known.”

Arthur snorted. “Are you going to put to use your immense intellect, and I do use the word sarcastically, getting us something to eat?!”

“I might, if you ask me very nicely.”

“Not going to happen.”

Arthur’s stomach rumbled loudly and Merlin started to laugh, but then his own emitted a loud rumble as well. “Hmm, I might anyway. Fish again?”

“Unless you can think of anything else.”

“Fish it is then. I kill, you collect?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They walked down to the river, Merlin stopping when he was ankle deep in the the dull grey-green water, the riverbed felt both slick and grainy under his soles, like gritty porridge, clouds of silt puffed up as he moved, turning the water around him murky. Arthur went out further, until the river was lapping around his knees.

Merlin closed his eyes, he couldn’t see the fish anyway, so it made it easier to concentrate. With one sense gone, he became more aware of the morning sun beating on his naked chest and shoulders and the pleasantly contrasting coolness of the water against his legs. He released the dark magic and it gushed from him gleefully into the water like a released shark. He knew his eyes would be glowing red behind his eyelids rather than golden, but he was as comfortable now with the dark magic as he was with the other magic that he used. Dark magic was a necessary part of the whole, in the same way that a personality was not truly complete unless it also contained the capability for anger and aggression, the important thing was to channel it appropriately.

His mind became one with magic as it cut through the water in search of prey, he felt the life forces of the fish like warm fires darting through the coolness of the river, some startlingly larger than any fish he knew or was expecting and some as small as a stickleback. Fish were abundant towards the centre of the river, but he didn’t want to make Arthur wade out further than he had to so he turned his magic inward, closer to the shore. There! A good sized fish, easily large enough to feed the both of them. Merlin wrapped his magic gently around the scales and felt the fins quivering almost like a tickle against his thoughts, then sent the magic gliding through the skin to gently stop the tiny heart. The fish was painlessly dead in an instant and he gave it a gentle push up towards the surface where Arthur could scoop it up.

*************************************************************

After they’d eaten they packed their belongings into a leather bag each that they slung over their shoulders, they’d long got used to travelling light; mostly carrying just basic essentials like the cook-pot but also the odd small thing of sentimental value that they couldn’t bear to leave behind. Wrapped up in Merlin’s tunic at the bottom of his bag was the delicate gold and enamel hare brooch that Arthur had once bought for him, now too old and fragile to wear, but carefully treasured.

Merlin knew Arthur still kept a tiny book on the art of warfare wrapped up and tucked into the bottom of his own bag, Merlin had been offered it by a book vendor in Persia, who’d said it was a rare text from the far east translated into Greek by a lone traveller who had been brave enough to venture halfway across the world and learn the language. He didn’t know whether the vendor was spinning him a tall tale, but he immediately wanted the book for Arthur and didn’t even baulk at the exorbitant fee. The book turned out to be genuinely insightful, and Arthur had been delighted with it. Even now, many years later, when he knew the text by heart, on some nights by the fire he would still bring the book out and delicately turn the fragile pages and Merlin would relax and watch the warm glow of the firelight flicker across the downcast blue eyes and the movement of his lips as his quiet voice drifted over Merlin like a warm caress.

“You coming?”

Merlin blinked and looked around to see that Arthur was already a few yards down the shore and looking back at him quizzically.

“Sorry.” Merlin jogged to catch up with him, the gravel warm under his bare feet.

“I’d like to pick up that knife I left at the fishing spot and then we can decide which way to travel next. Can you scout out the land ahead and see if you pick up anyone. I don’t want to tire you, but I don’t want to run into those warriors again.”

They paused so that Merlin could send magical feelers rippling out through the forest ahead of them, the jungle was teeming with life of all sizes, most of it obviously insects, but there were also the light fluttering life essences of birds threading through the branches, and some larger creatures...some monkeys, and some things that were perhaps pig like…it was difficult to tell, the mental equivalent of wearing a blindfold and thick leather gloves and then running your hands over something in the dark. He reeled his magic back in, feeling as though he had just run a short race. He opened his eyes. “Can’t sense anything human in that direction.”

“Perfect.” As they both started walking Arthur added, ”Have you felt anymore from that creature you sensed last night?”

“I’m pleased to say no, I’d rather not bump minds with it again, it wasn’t pleasant.”

It took a few hours to trek to where Arthur had been fishing the previous day, and after a little searching in the long grass Arthur gave a small cry of satisfaction as he found his knife and slipped it into the sheath hanging from his belt. 

Merlin gazed into the trees as he waited, the jungle provided a constant background noise, the high whirr of insects that sounded something like crickets, punctuated by the cheeps and trills of innumerable birds. The sun was high in the sky now and the air felt thick and humid, like breathing steam. Clouds of small midges haunted the river edge, dancing in clouds in the sunshine and drawn to them by the salt in their sweat. Despite feeling drained Merlin sent his magic out to blow the midges backwards from them both yet again, and then sent it questing out around their location to check for threats. Suddenly Merlin tensed. “Arthur! There’s something over there, I think it’s lying on the floor, but it’s not dead, it could be a person.”

Arthur nodded and made the hand gesture for ‘silence’. He drew the knife with his good hand and led the way forward in the direction Merlin had pointed, creeping through the waist-high plants that formed the boundary between riverside and towering trees, the billowing, spear-shaped leaves making a rustling sound like dry wheat as he moved through them. Merlin followed him into the shade beneath the trees, and they picked their way over the uneven ground, carefully skirting an ant hill the size of a beehive that banked up against a large tree. Merlin stepped carefully to avoid the scurrying lines of large, red ants that he could see trailing to and from it, many of them carrying bits of emerald leaf bobbing above them like tiny flags. Normally he might have been fascinated and stopped to watch, but at the moment his attention was on what lay ahead of them. 

A few minutes later they came to a small natural clearing where one of the massive trees had toppled over and had yet to be superceded, sunlight blazed down into the temporarily open space illuminating the massive fallen trunk and the dirt-clogged mesh of its exposed roots. A man was laying on his back in the shade of the trunk and for a moment Merlin thought he was unconscious, but then he saw that he was watching Arthur’s approach with cautious, narrowed eyes. When Merlin stepped out of the shadows and into the full glare of the sunlight the man’s eyes widened and he muttered and made a quick gesture across his chest.

Arthur looked back at him in surprise, “I think he’s making some sort of evil eye gesture against you, Kilgharrah said this land is very remote, perhaps he’s never seen someone as pale as you before. I think it’s one of the ones from yesterday,” said Arthur, slowly moving forwards, “I’m not putting this knife away, but I’m limited with only one arm, put your hands up and show him we don’t mean to kill him. After yesterday I’m sorely tempted to just leave him here, but he seems to be injured and I suppose we can’t just walk away.”

Raising his hands in front of him to show his empty palms, Merlin stepped forwards smiling, “We don’t want any trouble, are you injured?” He knew the man couldn’t understand him but hoped his tone of voice would carry across the language barrier.

He was a handsome young man, probably not yet into his twenties, with skin the colour of cinnamon and a strong nose with a smooth plug of dark green stone, Merlin guessed maybe jade or aventurine, inserted through the septum; Merlin stared at it in fascination, he’d seen gold nose rings before on their travels, but never a stone cylinder like this. Larger plugs made of gold went through his earlobes and his hair formed a glossy black cap around his head except for a long strand that was bound up in a knot on top of his head with a strip of green cloth. He was wearing a dark padded tunic that reminded Merlin of a gambeson and a necklace of embossed gold discs hung around his neck The man spat something in reply, then literally spat; it landed frothing on the dirt a few inches from Merlin’s toes. 

“I’m not sure he cares if we’re peaceful,” said Merlin.

The man suddenly moved like a viper and pulled a long wooden sword from where it had been hidden between his body and the shadow of the tree trunk, he sliced out at their legs with it and Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shoulder and pulled him backwards just in time. The man snarled angrily and tried to pull himself into more of a sitting position, but his legs didn’t appear to be working. As he tried to brace himself on his elbow to make another sweep with the sword, Arthur darted forward and grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching the weapon out of his hand. He stepped back to Merlin’s side with it as the man collapsed back muttering what they assumed were threats and curses. 

Arthur looked at the blade before passing it to Merlin who turned it over in his hands. It was surprisingly light for its size, a thin rectangular paddle of wood about three feet long, heavily carved with stylised figures in an intricate, blocky style that Merlin had never seen the like of before. A deep groove had been made along each edge, into which had been set neat rows of black, triangular stones, with their points forming a serrated edge. Merlin touched one of the stones curiously and immediately let out a yelp as blood welled from his fingertip. “These stones are like broken glass, they’re lethal.”

“That swing he took at us could have taken off your foot, I’m inclined to leave him to it and go on our way. Let his own people find him.”

“It’d be the sensible thing to do,” agreed Merlin.

They remained staring at the man on the floor.

“Oh Fuck!” said Arthur, “I’ll get any remaining weapons off him and you can check him over and see if there’s anything you can do.”

A short time later a dagger made of the same black stone as the ones on the sword, with an intricately carved jade hilt in the shape of a crouching man, a slingshot, and several light wooden darts lay in a pile on the dirt. Arthur stood over them turning over a strange carved piece of flat wood in his hand, it was about a foot long and there was a groove along the centre, at one end a wooden disc with two holes was fixed and a stone was tied on, flush to the wood, to weight that end. “I assume this is a weapon,” said Arthur, “but I’ve no idea how you’d use it.” 

“Is he clear?”

“Should be fine, but watch his hands.”

Merlin went and crouched beside the young man, who tried to shrink away from him, but then seemed ashamed of his fear and held himself still with obvious effort. Merlin smiled encouragingly at him, but the man just glared back. As gently as possible Merlin began checking the man for injuries, “I can’t find any wounds, I thought he might have had an injury to the spine, but there’s nothing.”

“Could he have been stung by a scorpion or something, could it be some sort of creeping paralysis?”

“It’s possible.” Merlin shrugged apologetically to the man as he began to run his hands over the man’s legs for indications of what might be wrong. Immediately the man tensed as though hit by a fit and Merlin could hear his teeth grinding together as he fought not to make a sound, Merlin snatched his hands away as though he’d been burned.

“What is it?” asked Arthur.

Merlin shook his head, and forced himself to put his hands back on the mans thighs, his fingers questing gently for information on the musculature beneath the skin. After a moment he snatched his hands back and reeled away covering his mouth.

“What is it?” Arthur helped him stand up.

“His legs,” said Merlin, “you said he was keeping up with you as you ran?”

“Pace for pace, I couldn’t believe it.”

“You’ve had almost two centuries to hone your muscles to this level, this man is barely twenty, if that.” Merlin swallowed. ”He pushed his body so hard that he ripped the muscles and tendons away from the bones.” 

Arthur flinched, “The pain would stop anyone even coming close to doing that.”

“I would have said it was totally impossible, but…he’s there…and I think that’s what’s happened.” 

Arthur looked down at the man in sympathy, “He must be in agony.”

“I don’t know how he’s still conscious.”

“Can that sort of thing heal?”

“I’ve never seen anything like it before, but definitely not. There will be internal bleeding…I’m surprised he’s still alive.”

Arthur looked out at the jungle, “Do you think the other three are in a similar state out there?”

“Possibly.”

Arthur grimaced and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We should put him out of his agony. We can’t leave him here to die slowly.”

“Do you want me..?” 

“Arthur looked stricken, “I wouldn’t ask you, but we both know it’s the kindest way.”

Straightening his shoulders Merlin gave Arthur a reassuring nod, “I can do this.”

He turned back to the young man, the man was gazing up at him with hate-filled eyes. “I’m sorry, truly I am.” Merlin closed his eyes and sent the dark magic slithering out, it writhed up over the man’s chest and seeped down to wrap around his heart…and found a hollow void. Merlin gasped and the magic responded to his shock and snapped back into his body so quickly that it was like a physical blow that sent him to his knees.

Arthur was kneeling at his side in a moment, his hand cupping Merlin’s cheek, “What is it? Are you alright?”

“There’s no heart.”

“What?”

Arthur was looking at him as though he’d lost his mind, and Merlin couldn’t blame him, he half-felt as though he had. “He doesn’t have a heart, there’s nothing there.”

Arthur’s skin went pale beneath his tan and he stared at the warrior lying on the ground. “It’s not possible.”

“I know.”

The warrior was sweating, and gritting his teeth against the pain. It seemed as though his earlier calm had been a front and it was slipping the longer they were there.

“We still can’t leave him like this.”

Merlin shook as he went to his knees beside the man again. He sent the dark magic out again and this time sent it up into the man’s skull, he waited until he had delicate tendrils of darkness threaded through every rippling curve of the man’s brain and then he clenched the net of magic tight. The man spasmed briefly and then relaxed into stillness. Merlin sagged with relief and was totally unprepared for the psychic roar of anger that came racing into his mind like a tidal wave. It was the creature from last night, and it was powerful and as mindlessly, blindly furious as a starving dog whose bone had just been snatched from it. It ripped into his mind biting and snapping and howling and he fought and flailed to push it out. He dimly heard Arthur calling his name as he was brutally ripped away from consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur gently tapped Merlin’s cheek, his skin felt far too cool and clammy,“Come on, lazybones, time to wake up.” 

With a weary sigh Arthur sank down beside him and rubbed at the headache building behind his eye sockets. He’d spent hours trying to construct a litter, and it still wasn’t close to being finished. The stone-edged sword of the dead warrior had proven surprisingly effective and had chopped through branches even more efficiently than the metal axes he was used to, so he’d gotten some crude poles together quickly enough, but then he’d needed twine to bind them. It had taken time to find which of the stems of the large-leafed plants growing nearby could be stripped down into stringy fibres and then of course he’d had to sit and twist the fibres together into stronger strands, and knot them together to make longer lengths… all of which had taken much longer than he expected, especially working one-handed as he was.

Despite trying not to move it too much his injured arm was one large throbbing ache and he wished he could make himself some willow bark potion, but to do that he’d need to travel back to the river for water. He licked his dry lips, he’d drunk the last dregs of the water flasks about mid afternoon and felt as though he’d sweated it all out of him soon afterwards. Perhaps he really had, as although he still felt baked by the sun, he’d even seemed to stop sweating now. Gods! he could kill for a cup of water. He looked at Merlin, who lay with pale lips slightly parted, and eyelashes a still dark shadow against his cheeks, he didn’t look asleep, he looked dead… Arthur patted Merlin’s chest affectionately, grateful to feel the rise and fall beneath his palm. “Don’t bother arguing, I’m not going anywhere, if you think I trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone…” 

On the other side of the clearing flies were buzzing lazily around the heap of leaves that he’d used to cover the warrior’s corpse. He wondered if the man’s people were out looking for him, you couldn’t cut wood quietly, the next time he started working he might draw them straight to him. The frame of the litter lay in the centre of the clearing, but he still needed to chop the rest of the branches needed to form the crossbars that Merlin could lie on. The sky was starting to mellow into the hyacinth blue of late afternoon and he could kick himself that he hadn’t started work on the litter sooner, he’d just been so confident that Merlin would regain consciousness any minute. They were both usually so good at bouncing back from injuries that this had caught him by surprise. What would happen if Merlin didn’t come round for days, how long could his body survive in this heat without water. They had an indefinite lifespan, and they were incredibly resilient, but they could be killed, and they still needed to eat and drink. 

Arthur released his fears with a puff of breath, worrying was for old women, better to be on his feet and doing something to improve their situation. “This man’s friends are going to turn up looking for him sooner or later and I’d rather not be here when they arrive,” Arthur watched Merlin’s eyelids hoping to see some flicker of movement but when nothing happened he refused to be disappointed, “I’ll just be over here saving your sorry arse, while you have a little lie down shall I?” With a last pat to Merlin’s chest, he pushed himself to his feet and looked around him for the nearest likely branch to cut down.

 

****************************************

He stepped back and looked at the litter with a sense of achievement, narrow enough to be dragged between the trees and with a large, sturdy loop of twine at the front that would allow him to pull it behind him. His headache was almost unbearable now, as though his skull wanted to shatter from the inside. Perhaps he could just lie down next to Merlin for a few moments and close his eyes, only a little rest, just to ease the pain a little. He looked longingly at the flat ground beside Merlin, then sighed and straightened his back. “Come on, time to get you on this thing.”

Once the litter was pulled over to Merlin’s side, Arthur rolled him onto it. It was more awkward than he’d expected, as Merlin’s body rolled loosely, and his legs didn’t seem to want to move the same way as his torso, but after a little while of ungainly pulling and shoving, he managed to get him sprawled on his back on the litter. The litter was too narrow to rest his arms at his side and hope that they’d stay in place, so Arthur rummaged through Merlin’s bag for his red neckerchief, held Merlin’s wrists resting against his bare chest and tied them together. It gave him an odd unpleasant feeling in his stomach to see Merlin helpless enough that his hands could be tied, but better than having his arms trailing along the forest floor on either side of the litter and scraping the skin off them. 

He dumped their bags on top of Merlin’s legs, and then went round to the front of the litter and hooked the loop of twine over his right shoulder. “You ready?” There was no reply, but he hadn’t expected one, Arthur flexed his shoulders and began to pull the litter back in the direction of the river. 

He was leaving a trail that a child could follow, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. He kept his focus on looking ahead for the best path between the trees and keeping his legs moving. 

The journey back to the river seemed interminable and every few yards he had to stop, release the litter from his shoulder, and cut back the undergrowth so that he could pull the litter through. By the time he stepped out of the shadows of the trees onto the shore, and saw the broad ribbon of grey water in front of him and the clear evening sky shimmering like fine, violet roman glass above his head he felt almost ready to cry with gratitude. He lent over Merlin to check he was still breathing, then grabbed the leather flasks in his good hand and went down to the river to fill them up. He knelt at the edge of the lapping water and didn’t think he’d ever been this parched in his life. As soon as one flask was full, he put it to his lips, tipped his head back and drank most of the contents in one long blissful swallow. He sighed in relief and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, even with his stomach sloshing with water his mouth still felt dry, but once the water had a chance to spread around his body he was sure…

Without warning, his stomach convulsed and he found himself falling forward and supporting himself on his good hand as he spewed the water straight back up again onto the gravel. His headache ratcheted up to agonising at the sudden jerking of his body and as soon as the vomiting had finished he couldn’t help groaning and let himself collapse onto his side. He didn’t want to move, the idea of moving his head and making the pain even worse made him shudder. But he was still incredibly thirsty, and his body craved the water that he could see in front of him. He pulled the flask towards him from where he had dropped it and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He drank what was left in the flask more slowly this time, and sat very still afterwards, willing his stomach to accept it. But a few seconds later his muscles spasmed and the water gushed back out of his mouth like a fountain. This was ridiculous, he was going to die of thirst when he had a huge river in front of him. He wished Merlin was awake.

Hands trembling slightly he filled the two flasks from the river and forced himself to trudge back up the slope. He sank down on the grass next to Merlin and took a small mouthful of water this time, and it sat in his stomach for a tiny bit longer before he vomited it up. His body was crying out for water and it was torture to feel the full flask in his hand and not be able to drink it, but perhaps if he took tiny sips over the night, barely more than enough to moisten his mouth, then he’d gradually be able to keep enough water down to make himself start feeling better. 

He relaxed onto his back and closed his eyes, trying to get accustomed to the pain that was pounding like hammers behind his eye sockets. He reached out his hand and found the knot tying Merlin’s wrists and jerked at it until it came loose, then pulled one of Merlin’s hands down to his side, and held it in his, twisting their fingers together and hoping for any twitch of a response. “You need to wake up now. You need to drink or you’ll feel as bad as I do,” his grip tightened, “perhaps you do feel as bad as I do, but you just can’t show it. Gods! I hope not, I hope you’re just unconscious.” Arthur took a small mouthful of water and drifted into a shallow and uneasy sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A damp cloth patting his forehead coaxed Merlin into wakefulness, he opened his eyes to find himself looking upwards at the interior of a low, thatched roof and groggily turned his head; he was lying on a soft mat on the floor. The hut was windowless, but in the wall beyond his feet, a rectangular opening just large enough for a man was letting in the only daylight; the late afternoon sun cast a warped rectangle of golden light up the rough plaster wall closest to him. Round pots, tied together by their necks, dangled from the walls like clusters of huge rust-red berries. 

He had to clench his eyes tightly shut for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him, making it feel as though the floor was tilting. 

“Take it slowly, you need to drink more water.” 

He heard the wet cloth fall with a dull splat onto the floor and a strong arm eased itself behind his shoulders, propping him up. The rim of a clay cup pressed against his lips and when he opened them water tasting of some sweet fruit he didn’t recognise flooded his mouth. He drank it greedily, suddenly realising how thirsty he was. When the cup was empty it was put to one side, and he opened his eyes again to see a young man with glossy, black hair falling to his shoulders and kind, brown eyes leaning over him. 

Once he was sure that Merlin could sit up unaided, the man moved back a little to kneel at his side. The man had a slim jade plug through his left earlobe and was naked except for a white loincloth that looped between his buttocks and around his waist, it was knotted at the front and draped in graceful folds almost to his knees where it had an edging of intricately embroidered red flowers. His only other clothing was a cloak of brilliant red that was tied loosely at the base of his throat and slung back over muscular shoulders, Merlin couldn’t help noticing the way the warm copper of his skin was complimented by the white and red. Merlin looked down to see that he was dressed in a similar loincloth though the edging of his consisted of a dense, interlocking pattern of stylised blue birds. He ran his fingers over the embroidered edging, was this his own clothing? It felt strange and unfamiliar to him. His right hand fluttered to the centre of his chest as though drawn there by long habit and he found himself frowning when he realised there was nothing there…something teased at the edges of his mind…some half-forgotten memory of his fingertips drawing comfort from a worn metal disc…a necklace of some sort?…shouldn’t he have a pendant?

“You’ve been sun-sick for two days, we found you lying out on the river bank with the stranger who attacked you. He was unconscious too, you must have fought well.”

Merlin blinked dazedly, forgetting his unease about the missing pendant. “Umm…I don’t know…”

“When you didn’t come back, I thought perhaps a band of Jaguars had taken you. Then when we broke out of the trees and I saw you lying so still…” The man half-closed his eyes and swallowed. 

Merlin felt as though he was floundering, “Jaguars?”

“Jaguars! Warriors from Aztla. Are you still sick? You look at me as though you don’t know me.” 

Nothing about this hut looked familiar, was this his home? There wasn’t much in the room, a small unlit hearth, two waist-high, clay pots stood in one corner, a long, woven bed-mat similar to the one he was lying on, was rolled up and propped in another corner, a few baskets filled with vegetables he didn’t recognise sat against one wall. The man was looking at him with anxious eyes, Merlin wanted to reassure him but didn’t know what to say.

Merlin flinched back as the man reached forward unexpectedly and grasped his bare shoulder shaking him slightly. “You remember me, my love?”

Merlin’s gaze fell again to the red cloak around the man’s shoulders, that at least seemed somehow familiar. “…Perhaps?”

The man looked crestfallen,“You remember your name?”

“Merlin.” He did know that, it was perhaps the only thing he was confident about.

“That’s right, and I’m…?”

He shrugged helplessly and winced at the man’s quickly covered expression of disappointment. He took Merlin’s closest hand and held it flat against his chest so that Merlin could feel the man’s heart beating. “Chimalli.”

Chimalli? The name meant shield, he knew that. His own name had a meaning too, what was it? He had a sudden sense of disorientation as though there was something building up in his mind behind floodgates and a slight nudge might let it break free. Then a memory of a hawk soaring against a blue sky came to him and the pressure on the floodgates subsided and they held strong. 

“Do you want to sleep again?”

“No,” Merlin shook his head, “I’ve slept enough. Is there some more water?”

“Of course,” Chimalli smiled and muttered a word as he stretched out his hand, Merlin almost fell backwards as the brown eyes glowed golden and a jug unhooked itself from the wall and floated to his hand.

“What did you do?”

“Just magic, Merlin you can do this too, why are you so startled?”

“I can?” How would you even go about making something float to you, he didn’t know the word Chimalli had muttered, was it something he used to know and had forgotten?

Chimalli poured some water from the jug and passed the refilled cup to Merlin, As Merlin drank he rubbed his hand reassuringly over Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, it will come back to you. Do you feel well enough to come out to eat?”

Merlin put the empty cup on the dirt floor beside him. “I’d like that.”

Chimalli helped him to his feet and steadied him when he wobbled, then he lifted a folded length of dark, blue fabric from where it rested on one of the vegetable baskets and shook it out, revealing it to be a cloak similar to his own. Merlin’s back stiffened as Chimalli carefully swung the cape around Merlin’s shoulders and stood close in front of him to tie it at the neck. He could feel the warmth emanating from Chimalli’s skin, and the teasing brush of his fingertips against his throat as they worked to tie the knot. It all felt somehow tantalisingly familiar and yet itched with wrongness. Was it because this should be a woman touching him with such easy intimacy, no, it wasn’t that, his sense memory was of the warm strength of male hands, a man had touched him like this before, he must be starting to remember his relationship with Chimalli. He examined the face, mere inches from his own, Chimalli’s eyes were downcast as he looked at what he was doing, the eyelids heavy and sensuous with long dark lashes and the full lips slightly tightened as he concentrated, he was very attractive, and he seemed so patient and kind, Merlin could understand why he would want to be with him, but he could feel no twinge of recognition.

Chimalli looked up and Merlin’s expression seemed to amuse him, he darted his face forward to drop a quick kiss to Merlin’s mouth, and Merlin had no chance either to flinch or to respond, so quickly was the featherlight brush of lips there and gone. Chimalli stepped backwards then and gestured at the open doorway, and Merlin followed him out into the sunlight. The hut turned out to be one of several opening onto a square meeting area of hard-packed dirt. Flowers and vegetables grew in well-kept gardens at either end, and the flowers lent a heavy perfume to the still air that mingled with the smells of cooking coming from a large hearth and clay oven built in the very centre of the square. Two women were cooking flat-breads over the low hearth, while men dressed similarly to themselves and women with long skirts and simple sleeveless blouses were sitting on mats dotted around the hearth, eating and talking, their voices a low mingling of chatter and laughter. As they saw the two men exit the hut some of them looked up and smiled and nodded and the chattering grew louder and less restrained, perhaps they had been keeping the noise down to let Merlin sleep. 

The sound of children laughing caught his attention and he saw a cluster of five or six youngsters standing on the far corner of the square. At first he thought they were playing, but then he realised that they were taunting a seated figure who had his arms bound behind him to a tall post set into the earth. The man was dressed in a plain white loincloth, his legs stretched in front of him and bound at the ankles. A gag of white material was tied tightly across his mouth. He was glaring at the floor, steadfastly ignoring the children, but he seemed to hear the change in the atmosphere and it made him look up. He saw Merlin and his eyes widened. The sullen stillness suddenly morphed into frantic pulling against his bonds and muffled sounds came through the gag. Merlin found himself trapped by those startled, blue eyes. 

“Your attacker. He would still kill you if he could.”

Merlin couldn’t drag his gaze from the struggling man. There was a desperate urgency mingled with confusion in the man’s gaze that seemed to expect some sort of reaction from him, he felt as though he was underwater and couldn’t catch his breath, “I don’t think he would hurt me.” Merlin took an involuntary step forwards and felt something stop him going any further, he looked down to see Chimalli’s gentle hand on his shoulder. When Merlin looked back to the bound man again he changed his mind, his expression had changed subtly and now he did seem to have hatred in his eyes. 

“He’s not like us,” said Chimalli, “look at his yellow hair, I’ve never seen anything like it, he must be from far away.”

The man’s hair glinted like gold in the sunlight, not dark like Merlin’s and the other men of the village. 

“Does he have to be tied up like that, couldn’t you at least un-gag him?”

“He tried to kill you, he’s lucky we’ve been so kind to him, I would do much worse if it was up to me. As soon as we dragged him into the village, Chalchiuhtlicue put him under her protection, what she wants with him I don’t know.” 

The blond man shook his head urgently and seemed to be trying to say something to Merlin through the sheer force of his glare. Chimalli took a graceful step forwards and blocked the view, he used a hand on Merlin’s elbow to turn him towards the hearth. “Come and sit down and eat, you’ll start to feel better and then we can talk about yellow hair if you want.” 

Merlin frowned but reluctantly allowed himself to be guided away.


	5. Chapter 5

At first Merlin’s coughing and choking made everyone laugh, Chimalli perhaps the loudest, but then when it became evident that he was in real distress Chimalli anxiously gave him water and patted him rather too enthusiastically on the back. Merlin gulped the water gratefully, his eyes streaming and his nose starting to run. When his mouth finally started not to burn with the heat of a hundred fires he gasped, “What is that?”

Chimalli took the edible food pocket from Merlin’s hand and stared at it in perplexity, “Just beans.”

Merlin wiped his mouth, “That’s not just beans.”

“Well, there’s some tomato.”

“Is that the stuff burning my mouth?”

“No, that would be the chilli.” Chimalli poked his index finger into the soft filling indicating the red strips lurking amongst the beans.

“And I eat chillies?…normally I mean?”

“Of course,” said Chimalli with a frown, “what else is going to give it flavour. Perhaps the sun sickness has made your mouth more sensitive.”

“Maybe.”

“Zyanya, could you get Merlin another tamale but with no chillies.”

Zyanya had the face of a goddess and the demeanour of a spoilt princess, from her position by the cooking fire she regarded Merlin with disdain. “You just want babies’ food in it?”

“Please.” He was distracted from his embarrassment by Chimalli suddenly elbowing his side; a woman was coming out of one of the huts and heading towards them. She looked to be in her mid twenties and was even more beautiful than Zyanya. Her blouse and ankle-length, cotton skirt were dyed a rich blue-green, and her long hair draped around her shoulders in a river of shiny black. 

“Chalchiuhtlicue!” said Chimalli.

‘She of the Jade Skirt’ translated Merlin’s mind helpfully. He wondered if she always wore green and his eyes narrowed, why didn’t he remember what colour she normally wore.

As she crossed the square any people sitting in her way moved aside in subtle deference, and then returned to their place as she passed. When she stopped in front of them Merlin hesitated, his palms braced against the woven mat, half pushing himself off the floor to stand, and waiting for some clue from Chimalli as to what would be polite. Chimalli remained seated, and after a moment Chalchiuhtlicue relaxed towards the ground in a graceful movement that left her sitting cross legged between the two of them. Merlin relaxed back into a sitting position.

“You look much better.” Chalchiuhtlicue’s voice was softly melodic and he thought it must be one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard. 

“I can’t remember,” blurted Merlin, “not you, not this village, not Chimalli…”

“I’m sure it will come back in time,” soothed Chalchiuhtlicue, “have you used your magic yet?”

“I think I’ve forgotten it, I don’t even know where to start.”

“It’s a part of you, you’ll find yourself using it instinctively soon, but with the war on, there’s no time to sit around and wait for you to get it back at leisure. Chimalli, you’ll need to help Merlin practise.”

Chimalli nodded, “Of course, my lady.”

“A war?” said Merlin looking to Chimalli for help, “Who are we fighting?”

“We’re going to take back Aztla,”

“That’s the village you mentioned? That the Jaguar warriors come from?”

“Hardly a village,” laughed Chimalli, “with a hundred thousand people in it.”

Merlin looked round at the people eating their meal in the square, “But…?” 

“We don’t need an army,” said Chalchiuhtlicue, nodding her thanks as a meek Zyanya respectfully passed her a bowl of food,”we just need to kill our brothers and sisters who rule there, once they are gone we’ll take their places.”

“It’s time for the change,” nodded Chimalli, glancing at the sky; the sun was a huge red disc sinking swiftly towards the tree line, smearing the wispy clouds bloody as it passed through them, “their cycle is ending and they have become monsters.”

They continued to talk as they ate their meal, but though he smiled and nodded at the appropriate moments, Merlin felt strangely divorced from it all, as though he were watching these people through glass, and they were nothing to do with him. He only felt a sudden surge in his pulse and a thrill of concern when Chalchiuhtlicue finally rose to her feet and looked at the bound, blond man on the other side of the square. “Time to find out where he comes from.”

“You won’t hurt him?”

Chalchiuhtlicue frowned at him, “Why do you care? You don’t know him.”

When he looked across, the prisoner’s unwavering stare was fixated on him, and Merlin shuddered uncomfortably. Why did he fascinate the man so much, what had he done to make the man hate him so badly? A wave of nausea washed over him as Chalchiuhtlicue turned away and began to thread her way through the seated villagers towards the prisoner.

Only Chimalli’s hand on his shoulder stopped him rising restlessly to his feet. “She won’t hurt him badly, we just need to talk to him and find out whether there are more of his kind coming. She’ll just go into his mind and manipulate it a little so that he can speak our language.”

Merlin couldn’t sit still any longer. “I should go watch, perhaps seeing her use magic will will help me to remember my own.”

“No!” said Chimalli harshly, his grip on Merlin’s shoulder tightening into something almost painful. He saw Merlin’s wince and softened. “No, it’s best you don’t, it’s not your type of magic anyway, it wouldn’t help.”

Chalchiuhtlicue was kneeling beside the prisoner now and had put her hands gently to either side of his face. Merlin watched the gagged man try to shake them away but she held him firmly, her thumbs pressed in under his high cheekbones and her fingers splayed across his forehead. He could see the man’s body go rigid and the muscles in his upper arms begin flexing as though he was under tremendous strain and fighting to keep it from showing, but then suddenly the tension seemed to break and the man’s face twisted in pain, Merlin jerked as he heard the muffled screaming.

“No, you can’t…” Merlin shuddered. 

“Relax, this won’t take long.” whispered Chimalli.

Merlin’s heart was beating so quickly he could hear his pulse pounding in his ears. His world was so condensed on Chalchiuhtlicue and the screaming man that he was barely aware of pushing Chimalli away with a violent shove and lurching to his feet. He had only managed a few steps when the villagers around him began standing up and moving into his way, from behind him a dozen hands clutched at him. Those villagers nearby who hadn’t yet managed to rise grabbed at his ankles and he almost fell as he kicked them off before they could get a firm grasp. For a moment he despaired as he found himself overwhelmed but then he heard another muted scream and it seemed to tear at something inside of him and turn him mad. Without knowing how he was doing it he lashed out at the people holding him back, screaming in frustration and sending a surge of magic blasting out like a thunder clap, men and women were blasted away from him in all directions like dead leaves caught in a storm wind. 

Chalchiuhtlicue’s eyes widened and she jumped to her feet as she saw Merlin striding towards her. Off to one side Chimalli had run to come level with him and moved his hands to raise a flickering shield of blue light between Chalchiuhtlicue and Merlin. 

“I haven’t hurt him, look he’s fine.” Chalchiuhtlicue’s voice had the richness of warmed honey and Merlin paused. Her words seemed to both calm and bewilder him like drinking several cups of mead on an empty stomach. 

The man was breathing heavily through the gag and the sound of it drew Merlin’s eyes to him. His body was sagging slightly, perhaps being tied to the pole was the only thing stopping him from slumping to the floor, but his eyes were bright with a fierce intelligence and fixed on Merlin.

For a moment Merlin couldn’t remember what he was doing there and he felt himself sway, the prisoner’s face swam out of focus, then into sharpness, and then into blurriness again. The man seemed to be trying to speak to him but it was stifled by the fabric in his mouth. Merlin wasn’t sure why he had been so desperate a moment ago.

“Everything’s fine,” smiled Chalchiuhtlicue, “why are you standing up, you’ve been ill, you should sit down, you look tired.”

Why was he standing up? He did feel weary, he could hear the villagers behind him slowly getting to their feet and hoped he hadn’t hurt anyone. A bright sparkle of red caught his attention and he blinked with slow fascination as he watched blood trickle from the prisoner’s left nostril. The blood ran down over the man’s top lip and onto the gag. It reached the material and begin soaking into the fabric in a spreading scarlet stain. It reminded him of poppy petals, or the bright red of a pennant…an image flitted across his mind of a red flag flapping the breeze on the top of a pointed tower roof…

Chalchiuhtlicue gave a small nod to Chimalli and the magical shield between them fell to the floor in a shower of deep blue sparkles that spat and hissed out of existence as they hit the ground. Chalchiuhtlicue moved so close that Merlin could feel her body pressed against his own, her warm breath stirring the downy hairs on his skin. He inhaled and the scent of her long hair filled him, she smelled of flowers and clean skin, and made him think of lazy mornings in a soft bed with a warm body against his own. Just for a few seconds he allowed his eyes to shut. Somewhere deep inside he knew that he wasn’t attracted to women in that way, he could imagine himself sleeping with Chimalli, but not Chalchiuhtlicue, but despite this he felt a rush of warm blood to his loins and felt himself harden.

Chimalli’s hand had slipped under his blue cloak and was pressed warm against the small of Merlin’s back. Merlin leant into it gratefully, Chimalli would take care of him. He was just confused at the moment and needed to lie down.

“Go with Chimalli,” said Chalchiuhtlicue, and Merlin was briefly startled at how she seemed able to echo his own thoughts so closely, but the feeling of disquiet almost instantly faded into sleepy acceptance, “he will take care of you.”

“Of course I will,” murmured Chimalli, “come back to our home, the night is falling, it’s time to be alone.” 

As Merlin allowed himself to be turned he thought he heard some desperate, smothered protest behind him. He almost paused, but Chimalli smiled at him, his expression sweet and almost shy, and Merlin was distracted by the heat of his desire and felt himself blush. 

Merlin was dimly aware that the prisoner seemed to be screaming again, but it wasn’t agony this time, it was from some sort of desperate anger, or fear, or some other emotion far harder to pin down. Grateful that it couldn’t be anything that he needed to worry about, Merlin allowed Chimalli to guide him back to their home.


	6. Chapter 6

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and Merlin hesitated in the doorway of the hut until he could make out the lighter rectangle of his sleeping mat on the floor.

“Do you want me to light a torch?”

“No, no need to waste a torch, I can see well enough now.” His head still felt fuzzy, as though someone had packed it full of sheep’s wool, and it was a relief to sit down on the mat. 

Chimalli retrieved the other sleeping mat from the corner and unrolled it onto the floor. He noticed Merlin’s shiver and sat beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders to pull him close; his hand slipped up under Merlin’s blue cloak and ran along Merlin’s bare arm, which only seemed to make Merlin shudder more violently. “You’re cold?” 

“Not at all,” answered Merlin, frustrated that his body seemed to be reacting completely independently of his mind, he gave Chimalli a weak smile, “I don’t know why I’m shaking, I’m sorry.”

Out in the square the villagers were gradually dispersing to their homes while Zyanya and another woman were carefully packing the hot ash over the fire to keep it slumbering through the night. Chalchiuhtlicue walked across to them and said something to Zyanya who nodded and began assembling a couple of tamales from the left over bowls of food. Chalchiuhtlicue turned to look across the square at the prisoner and while her back was turned Zyanya smirked at her companion and spooned a large amount of chillies into the contents of the tamale. Merlin’s lips tightened.

“Your mind should be on me, my love, not on Zyanya. I’ll get jealous.” Chimalli used his free hand to caress Merlin’s thigh, and began to ghost kisses across Merlin’s cheekbone.

Merlin quivered and had to force himself not to wrench away. This man was his partner, he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but his lack of memories was a nagging ache inside him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it in the same way that someone with a tooth cavity can’t resist worrying at it with their tongue. “How did we meet?”

Chimalli paused with his lips against Merlin’s neck. “What?”

“How long have I known you?”

Chimalli drew back to look at him, he chewed at his lower lip thoughtfully with strong, white teeth before he spoke. “We’ve known each other since we were little children. Your family lived in the house next to mine in Aztla. When we were very young we would fight, but then, when we were old enough to start warrior training we became inseparable.”

Merlin tried to picture his family home, his family. “My mother, what’s she like?”

“She’s beautiful, just like you. Slender limbs and narrow hips…graceful… ” said Chimalli, his shoulders relaxing and his hand resuming its insistent massage of Merlin’s thigh.

Merlin froze. “Her hair, what colour is her hair?”

“Black of course, what other colour would it be?”

Chimalli’s fingers moved upwards now, and Merlin forced himself to hold still as they moved under the folds at the front of his loincloth and brushed lightly over the material covering his erection. “But do you really want to talk about her now?”

Merlin’s hand seemed to move of its own volition and clamped across Chimalli’s holding it still. “There’s no curtain on the door, anyone could see us.”

Chimalli glanced at the doorway in bemusement. “Why would anybody want to watch?”

The feel of dry lips brushing the side of his cheek and the warm, moist, breath against his ear felt almost more intimate than Chimalli’s massaging hand between his legs. His body was responding to the firm, kneading fingers but he felt almost divorced from it all, as though he were floating somewhere outside himself. On the far side of the square Chalchiuhtlicue was crouched beside the prisoner, she had wound ropes around his chest binding his body to the pole at his back, and now she crouched down to release his hands. Having his arms bound behind him for so long must have made them numb as Merlin could see that she was having to physically move his arms for him, pulling them around in front of him and retying his wrists together. Merlin guessed the man would be in agony as the blood supply began to surge back into deprived muscles. 

Chimalli sensed Merlin’s lack of engagement and gave a low growl of irritation. He shifted to kneel in front of Merlin now, one knee between his splayed legs, his sharp teeth nipped playfully at Merlin’s jaw and rasped against the light stubble there. 

Merlin looked over the scarlet cloak on Chimalli’s shoulders and out through the doorway into the violet evening light. Now Chalchiuhtlicue was leaning over the prisoner and asking him something but the man seemed to be ignoring her, he was looking at the small rectangular opening of their hut. Surely he couldn’t see Merlin within the dark interior, but it still felt as though the man’s gaze was fixed inexorably on his own, he could almost feel himself shrivel under those bright blue eyes. “He’s watching us.”

Chimalli laughed, then turned his head to whisper into Merlin’s ear. “We’re in shadow in here, we’re invisible.” 

Chimalli pulled off his own cloak and tossed it to one side, then tugged loose the knot at Merlin’s neck and tossed the blue cloak on top of it. He pressed him backwards, and after a brief resistance, Merlin let himself sink backwards onto the mat, the woven reeds were a rough texture against his spine. Chimalli lent over, one hand on the floor supporting him so that his lean muscled body hovered above him. The other hand deftly untied Merlin’s loincloth and allowed it to fall open around his hips in a loose snowdrift of white cotton. He looked down at Merlin’s body for a long moment as though fascinated, Merlin had gone flaccid, his cock lying exposed and satin-soft against one thigh; Chimalli reached down and cupped it in his hand, his fingers squeezing gently and encouraging it to rise again.

Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut, his shoulder blades flexing against the mat and his hips rising slightly in response to the stimulus. The sensation felt wonderfully good, and yet…Chimalli’s skin smelled warmly spicy, with an undercurrent of male sweat that was stimulating rather than off-putting…but somehow it was the wrong scent. Merlin struggled to recognise what wasn’t right about it, there was something so close to sparking a memory in him, but it remained elusive. Frustrated at himself and realising that he was neglecting his partner, he reached down to fumble with the knot of Chimalli’s loincloth. 

He couldn’t master it, and it was Chimalli who reached back and with a brief motion tugged it free, Merlin wrapped his hand around him and began stroking him to completion. Above him Chimalli gasped in surprise as his back arched. “I didn’t think…that’s so…I…I love you…”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond, “That’s good.” he muttered as Chimalli’s efforts to bring him to completion intensified. He somehow couldn’t bring himself to say ‘I love you’. 

A few moments later he felt a hot wetness as Chimalli spilled across his stomach. He sighed and stilled, and would have been as glad to have stopped then, but Chimalli showed no sign of pausing. He was whispering sweet things into his ear with an urgency that seemed only intensified by the pleasure he’d just experienced. 

Merlin was with a man who loved him, and whom he…loved?…surely this should be…’more’ somehow? Merlin lay back on the mat and endured Chimalli’s heavy, excited breathing as the man rubbed him to orgasm. 

Once Merlin had climaxed, Chimalli finally sank down onto his side and curled up against him, panting, his arm curled jealously across Merlin’s chest. “I love you…really I do…”

Merlin gave a brittle smile but didn’t reply. He stared up at the roof of the hut, barely visible in the gathering gloom. Reflexively he used an arm to hug Chimalli in response, but his thoughts were distracted and far away. He wondered about the prisoner with the yellow hair, and his own mother with her…long, black hair?…he couldn’t remember her at all and it pained him. 

Across the square the sound of retching was audible on the cool evening air and Merlin’s stomach twisted in sympathy. It must be the prisoner. Was it because of the chillies that a vindictive Zyanya had loaded into his food? Merlin felt a sudden bone-deep dismay that the man might have been able to watch everything he’d just done. Though why that should bother either him or the prisoner he didn’t know. They were nothing to each other after all, he didn’t even know the man.

Merlin lay corpse-still under Chimalli’s possessive arm for the next few hours, unwilling to disturb his partner, but totally unable to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

He had nothing to bring up but stomach acid and it burned his throat and stung the inside of his nose; the ropes around his chest stopped him bending over, so although he tried to aim at the ground much of the vomit ended up spattering over his chest and left arm. When the eruption finally stopped he spat the taste from his mouth and gasped for breath. 

Chalchiuhtlicue had taken a quick step to one side so that her long skirts weren’t soiled, he looked down at her dainty feet peeking out from beneath the green material and wished he’d had the presence of mind to aim for them. 

He raised his head with an effort and rested it against the pole behind him. Chalchiuhtlicue was watching him with cool dispassion and just the faintest hint of disgust curled her upper lip. He put as much arrogance as he could into the tilt of his chin and met her gaze with steady hate, she had brought him to this, and he refused to feel degraded.

Raising his head brought his eye-line back to the hut on the other side of the square. He was sure tying him up with such a good view of the doorway was intentional. Two days ago, when he was lying in one of these huts barely conscious and Chalchiuhtlicue was nursing him through his heat stroke and using magic to heal his broken arm, he’d thought these people were kind. He winced now to remember the words of gratitude he’d mumbled to her as she’d held him in a sitting position and tipped water carefully between his lips. As soon as he’d been well enough to survive they’d dragged him out and bound him to this stake. In the time since then he’d come to realise that they were more subtly cruel than he could have imagined. 

He didn’t want to look but couldn’t stop himself. The interior of the hut was unlit and he could just make out Chimalli in the darkness. Even before Chalchiuhtlicue had ripped her way into his brain and forced their language onto him, Arthur had realised that was the handsome man’s name. Over the past day, whenever Chimalli could bring himself to take a break from hovering with creepy tenderness around Merlin’s unconscious body, he’d been one of the keenest to heap mild torments on Arthur. 

Although Chimalli was barely visible now, Merlin’s pale skin seemed to catch the last of the evening light and gleamed against the shadows like a white flower in a dusky garden. Arthur was grateful that he didn’t have to watch Chimalli humping Merlin’s body anymore, but the realisation that they must have finished made him feel hollow and bereft, as though someone had scooped out his insides. Chimalli was draped across Merlin’s sleeping body like a canker eating into the sweet, white flesh of an apple. If force of will alone could do it, then Arthur would rip these ropes away and stride over there and use his bare hands to rip the bastard’s balls right off.

He knew it was like a drowning man grasping at straws, but the only positive thing he could think about Merlin not being himself, was that at least he seemed to be enjoying Chimalli’s intimacy and wasn’t distressed by it. But the idea of that man touching Merlin intimately, taking advantage of Merlin’s confusion, encouraging Merlin to participate in his own violation…Arthur felt his stomach roil again and the remaining liquid in his stomach came gushing up.

As he spat the last of it away, retching and dry-heaving, he was dimly aware of Chalchiuhtlicue crouching beside his bound feet. He felt her hand tighten around his right foot, her thumb digging into his instep, her fingers tight as a vice across the top of his foot. She held it immobile as she used her other hand to take hold of his second toe. He frowned in confusion, still feeling drained from vomiting, sagging slightly against the bonds that held him to the pole. Then with a lack of expression that was more chilling than if she’d been spitting hate at him, she began to push the slender toe backwards towards the top of his foot, it tilted backward, away from the big toe and the slightly smaller toe that bordered it. Arthur’s eyes widened and he struggled to pull away but she held his foot still with surprising strength and her beautiful, dark eyes met his steadily. She couldn’t push the toe much further before it reached the limit that it could naturally bend. She gave it the tiniest nudge further and Arthur felt a dull pain in the connecting tendon beneath his foot.

“I’m not going to put your gag back in,” said Chalchiuhtlicue quietly, “I don’t want you to choke to death on your own vomit during the night. But if you call out to your friend, then I will come back, and I will break each of your toes one by one. We want you alive, but we don’t need you to be able to walk. Do you understand?”

For a moment Arthur was too shocked to reply.

“I said, ‘do you understand?’”

Arthur nodded, there was no point calling out anyway, not when it would wake the village and when Chimalli and Chalchiuhtlicue seemed to be able to control Merlin somehow. He needed to bide his time until he had a realistic chance to escape and take Merlin with him. “I understand.”

“I’m glad you’re being sensible.”

Blindingly bright pain shot down his foot, dazzling in its intensity and startling enough to make him clamp his teeth together sharply on his tongue; he tasted the warm, iron tang of blood mingling with the sourness his mouth. Lights sparked behind his eyelids and it was a moment before Arthur could open his eyes. Her hands were clasping his foot, her fingers had abruptly forced his toe backwards and were now holding it flat against the back of his foot. 

“What?” Arthur panted for breath, “Why?”

“Because I can.” With exaggerated tenderness she pulled the broken toe back into place beside the others.

The whimper escaped him before he could stop it.

“I’ll be asking you questions tomorrow, this will remind you to answer my questions as helpfully as you can. And unless you want Merlin to suffer like this, it’ll remind you to watch what you say.”

She stood and picked up a clay plate of food from the ground where she’d put it earlier. She put the plate on his bare thighs, where his bound hands could reach it. “Eat something, you’ll need to keep up your strength.”

Arthur would prefer to cut out his own tongue than ask her for anything, but his throat was sore from being sick and he knew he was beginning to get dehydrated again after sitting out here under the heat of the day. “Can I have some water?”

Chalchiuhtlicue smiled, and it made her look innocent and very beautiful, like someone’s younger sister being asked to her first dance. “Of course you can, I don’t want you dying of thirst, do I?”

There was a tall water jar standing by one of the huts, she went over to it and removed the wooden lid. A red clay jug hung on the wall above the jar and she unhooked it and dipped it into the water. She came back and it took all his courage not to flinch as she walked around his feet to reach his side. It felt as though someone had thrust an an iron spike into a fire, waited until it glowed red-hot, and then driven it into his right foot, the idea of anything even brushing against it made him shiver. 

Chalchiuhtlicue stood the jug of water by his right hip, it was tall enough that his bound hands should be able to pick it up. “Get some sleep.” 

She left him then, and he watched her walk gracefully across the square, her slender body swaying as gracefully as a green reed in the breeze. When she reached her hut she cast a quick glance back at him and then ducked inside.

After a while any other people in the square dispersed back to their homes, none of them threw more than a glance at him. He reached across with his tied hands and managed to get hold of the jug’s handle, his muscles were tense and shaking with the fear of accidentally tipping it over but he managed to raise it to his mouth without accident and drank deeply. He wanted to use some of the water to rinse the vomit from his chest but he didn’t dare risk wasting any of it.

With infinite care he awkwardly set the jug down again on the hard-packed earth at his side. 

Night fell and a creamy moon rose slowly above the jungle.

Within the hut Merlin seemed to be sleeping peacefully, or at least his body wasn’t moving beneath Chimalli’s. Arthur wanted to call out to him, but it would achieve nothing, he needed to bide his time. His own pain seemed almost to fade away under the bone-deep ache to pull Merlin away and protect him. 

He felt wetness trickle from his eyes and let out a burst of laughter at the contrast between what he wanted and what was even remotely achievable. 

Arthur forced himself to rally, he should eat and keep his strength up. The last thing he felt like was eating, but he made himself pick up the food from the plate on his lap and took a bite. Sudden heat blasted the inside of his mouth as though someone had thrust a lit torch into it. He gasped and spat the food out. 

He lunged for the water jug and watched in utter dismay as it tipped onto it side and the water ran away onto the moonlit ground.


	8. Chapter 8

When morning broke Chimalli helped Merlin to tie his loincloth, as the intricacies of getting it right seemed to be another of the countless things he had forgotten.

“Come, we’ll go down to the stream to bathe.” Chimalli ran his fingers wonderingly over Merlin’s stubbled jaw, his own skin was still smooth and hair-free, “though how we are going to get rid of this I’m not sure, there are far too many hairs for you to pluck them out as a man would usually.”

Merlin frowned at him, “What did I do before?” 

For a moment Chimalli seemed flustered, then he smiled, “you were always very self-conscious about your hairiness, you never let us see how you coped with it. Perhaps you could scrape it off with a sharp flint…one of the ones for skinning rabbits, yes, I’m sure that would work, I’ll bring one with us.”

When they stepped out into the hot sun Merlin saw that there was a crowd of villagers clustered around the prisoner obscuring him from view. Chimalli grabbed his arm as Merlin went to walk over there, “The stream is this way.”

Merlin shook off his hand and continued towards the huddle of people, “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, come with me.”

Merlin slipped his grasping fingers again and pushed his way through the villagers to the front, they moved aside to let him through, seeming wary of him after his display of magic the previous day. 

Merlin regarded the blond man in dismay, like Merlin’s his jaw was rough with stubble now, though his was golden rather than dark. The delicate skin under his eyes was tinged mauve from lack of sleep, dried vomit coated the left hand side of him, and one of his toes was puffy and purple, obviously broken. It hadn’t been broken yesterday, and Merlin knew he hadn’t been released from the post. The chilli-filled tamales lay on the dirt beside him, he’d obviously been unable to eat them. His treatment amounted to torture, and whether the man had tried to kill him or not, and Merlin was starting to wonder whether he even had, Merlin couldn’t stand by and let this happen.

His expression must have shown how appalled he was, as with cracked and dry lips the man smiled at him and gave a small shake of his head. Though what he was warning Merlin not to do, Merlin wasn’t sure. Chalchiuhtlicue noticed Merlin’s presence and sent a scowl at Chimalli, who gave a small shrug of helplessness.

“You should go with Chimalli and wash,” said Chalchiuhtlicue coldly, “you shouldn’t be in company, you stink of sweat and sex.”

Merlin drew in a sharp breath and from the corner of his eye he saw the prisoner wince.

“What are you doing?” said Merlin.

“I’m going to question your attacker.”

“Then I’m staying,” Merlin replied, “you’ll just have to stand upwind.”

The prisoner gave a sharp bark of laughter and Merlin found himself smiling at him.

Chalchiuhtlicue seemed about to argue, but then paused, “Very well.” she said reluctantly. She turned her attention to the prisoner, “What’s your name?”

“Arthur Pendragon.”

“What does it mean?”

Arthur frowned, “What?”

Chalchiuhtlicue crouched down next to his feet and took the toe beside the broken one in her fingers.

“No!” shouted Merlin in outrage.

He started forwards at the same time as Arthur hastily burst out, “I don’t know what you mean.”

She slowly released his foot but remained where she was. “All names have a meaning, ‘Zyana’ means ‘forever’, ‘Ohtli’ means ‘road’, what does ‘Arthur Pendragon’ mean?”

“Arthur means…I think it means ‘Bear’…it’s a sort of big animal.” he supplied at her blank look. “’Pendragon’ means ‘son of the dragon’.”

“What’s a dragon?”

“Erm, it’s…” 

Arthur seemed briefly flummoxed and Merlin stepped in, somehow he knew what a dragon was, why of all things would he remember that? But what was even more confusing was that there didn’t seem to be a word for it, how could he be remembering something that the language didn’t even have a word for. “We don’t have dragons, the nearest thing we have is a great serpent, the ‘coatl’.”

There were sharp intakes of breath from the villagers, Merlin caught the words ‘bad luck’ among the unhappy mutterings that washed through the crowd. Chalchiuhtlicue stood up angrily, “He’s no serpent, he doesn’t even have magic!”

The anxious murmuring continued and Chalchiuhtlicue had to raise her voice to speak above it, “and even if he is a serpent, what sort of snake is he? Not ‘Xiuhcoatl’ the fire serpent, not ‘Mixcoatl’ the cloud serpent…no he’s a…” Her gaze raked the villagers for inspiration and lit on a woman standing near the front. “Ixchel, give me your necklace.” 

Ixchel hesitated in confusion and then unhooked the leather thong from around her neck, dangling from the front of the necklace, separated by small gold beads, dangled three slender feathers. They were about as long as Merlin’s middle finger and a stunning iridescent blue-green. 

“Wing feathers from the quetzal,” laughed Chalchiuhtlicue waving it in front of the crowd, “This is the sort of serpent that you cowards are scared of. She stepped forwards and fastened the necklace around Arthur’s neck. “Not fire, not clouds…feathers! A feather serpent. We shall call you ‘Quetzalcoatl’, perhaps you can beat our warriors to death with your wings.”

A couple of the villagers chuckled nervously. 

Arthur met her gaze steadily. “Perhaps I shall.” 

The rest of the questioning went without incident, Chalchiuhtlicue seemed unnerved by the change in mood of the villagers and to want to get the interrogation over as speedily as possible. When she asked him why he had tried to kill Merlin, he looked at Merlin as though he wanted to speak, but then pressed his lips tight and refused to answer. Chalchiuhtlicue didn’t try to force him though, and moved smoothly on to her next question.

The only time she threatened violence again was when she asked how he had arrived in their land and he said he had ridden there through the skies on the back of a great dragon. She almost slapped him then, but Chimalli caught her wrist and rolled his eyes towards Merlin and she reluctantly drew back.

When it was over and the villagers dispersed, Chimalli asked Merlin to go with him to the stream. 

“I’ll follow you down there,” said Merlin, “I want to get the prisoner some water.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” said Merlin quietly.

Chimalli realised that he wouldn’t be moved and reluctantly left him to it.

Once he was gone, Merlin picked up the fallen jug at the prisoner’s side and went and filled it at one of the water jars. He came back and crouched next to Arthur, holding the jug up to his lips so that he could drink. Arthur gulped the water gratefully. When he seemed to have had enough, Merlin put the jug down.

“She was right though, you do stink!”

Merlin burst out laughing. “I’m the only one here being nice to you, do you think it’s a good idea to antagonise me?”

Arthur grinned, “I could be as rude to you as I liked and it still wouldn’t stop you helping me, it’s who you are.”

Merlin’s smile faded, “And how do you know who I am?”

“If I tell you then she’s threatened to break the rest of my toes.”

Merlin flinched and automatically looked around him, villagers were bustling around getting themselves breakfast from the central hearth and starting the day’s tasks. A few women had pulled their looms out in front of their huts and were already engaged in weaving colourful, patterned fabric. No-one was near enough to hear them. “But how would she know if you told me?”

“Well, that would be up to you.”

Merlin rose to his feet.

Arthur’s eyes widened, “Don’t go!”

“I’ll be back in a minute, I would say ‘wait here’ but…”

Arthur relaxed and snorted, “Very funny.”

Merlin grinned at him and hurried back to the hut he shared with Chimalli. He was back a few minutes later with a small length of cloth, he sat down at Arthur’s left side with the water jug and dipped the cloth into it. “If we’re going to talk then I might as well get you cleaned up a bit at the same time.” He began wiping the dried vomit from Arthur’s chest.

Arthur watched the gentle hands taking care of him. For a moment his eyes blurred and he had to cough to clear his throat before he could manage to speak again, “You know you don’t belong here?”

“I’m starting to realise that, yes. When I woke up I was confused, I still can’t remember anything, but what I’m being told here isn’t making sense.”

“That’s because it isn’t true,” hissed Arthur, “you came here with me, you’re handfasted to me, not Chimalli, you’d never even met him until you woke up the other day.”

Merlin paused, the cloth dripping cool water down Arthur’s chest. “How do I know you’re speaking the truth?” 

“Look at us, we’re the only two men in the village who have a beard starting. You’re pale, like me.”

“You’re not pale,” contradicted Merlin.

Arthur looked down at his brown chest, “Well, I suppose I’m not, but that’s a tan.”

“And I have dark hair like them, not hair like you.”

“Good Gods, even losing your memory doesn’t make you less contrary,” growled Arthur.

“I’m just saying,” said Merlin obstinately, “if you’re going to use skin and hair colour as an argument then it works both ways.”

“Fine,” snapped Arthur, “look at your hand.”

Merlin looked at his hands, he was missing the top joint of his little finger, he wondered what accident had caused it and waggled the finger. “This?”

“No, the other hand, your ring finger, see the pale line on it, that was where your handfasting ring was. See,” Arthur held up his bound hands so Merlin could see his left ring finger, there was a pale circle of skin running around the base of it. “I have one too, they took the rings off us when they captured us. Your pendant too.”

Merlin touched his chest thoughtfully with his fingers. “It was a silver disc?”

“Yes,” agreed Arthur, leaning forward enthusiastically as far as the ropes around his chest would allow, “that’s right. There was a dragon on one side and a merlin on the other, I gave it to you. You never took it off.”

“Who has it now?”

“I don’t know, if I had to guess then I’d assume Chalchiuhtlicue, she seems to be the leader.”

“Alright,” Merlin began washing the vomit from Arthur’s arm, “I’ll search her hut as soon as I get a chance.”

Arthur shook his head, “You can’t, it’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll release you first, once it gets dark and everyone is asleep, you can’t stay here.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“I can’t go with you unless I know for sure that you’re telling me the truth.”

“Can’t you feel it?”

Merlin bit his lip, “I wish I could say yes, but I can’t, I don’t know. I feel a bond with you but I feel a bond with Chimalli too.”

“Of course you do, he made sure of that by fucking you at the first opportunity.”

Merlin flinched backwards and Arthur looked stricken, “I’m sorry, I’m angry with him, not you.”

Merlin stood up, his expression shuttered and unreadable. “I’ll get you some food from Zyanya without chillies in it. Then I’d better go wash this smell of sex off me.”

“Merlin…”

He came back with a bowl of chilli-less tamales and set it on Arthur’s lap, but wouldn’t say anything in response to Arthur’s continued apologies. As he turned to leave he softened, “I’ll set you free tonight, you only have to hold out till then.”

“And you’ll come with me?”

Merlin sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll search Chalchiuhtlicue’s hut. If I find what you say I will, then I’ll meet you out in the jungle.”

“How will I know where to wait?”

“We’ll decide tonight. For now,” Merlin’s shoulders stiffened, “I think I need to go and wash.”


	9. Chapter 9

There was a well-worn path down to the stream and Chimalli and several other men were already standing in the swift-flowing water when Merlin got there. He slipped off his loincloth and left it folded on the bank with theirs before sidling out into the chilly water. As Merlin waded across to him Chimalli looked up from washing his chest, he padded back to the bank and picked up a handful of pulverised root from a large wooden bowl, passing it to Merlin, who took it uncertainly; it felt wet and slimy and Merlin flinched and almost dropped it in the stream. A couple of the other men laughed at Merlin’s expression of surprised revulsion.

“Soaproot!”

Merlin gave a small “Oh!” of understanding, looked at what the other men were doing, and then then started soaping himself down with the greasy mixture. After a few moments it lost the feeling of slickness and rubbing it against his chest began producing a healthy amount of white lather. 

“Here, turn around, I’ll do your back.” 

Merlin stepped away skittishly, “it’s alright, I can manage.” He hadn’t yet had a chance to work out how he felt about the intimacy with Chimalli the previous night, if the prisoner…Arthur…were telling the truth, then Chimalli didn’t know him at all and Merlin should be furious and outraged and possibly punching him in the face right now. But if Arthur was lying, then all Chimalli had intended was to continue the loving relationship they shared and perhaps help rekindle his memories in the process. Not knowing whether he should be feeling angry left his emotions with nowhere to settle and he felt uncomfortable and confused. He distracted both himself and Chimalli by asking, “What’s Chalchiuhtlicue planning to do with Arthur?”

There was a momentary pause, then Chimalli said, “She plans to give him to Tezcatlipoca.” 

“The Smoking Mirror,” translated Merlin thoughtfully, “why is he called that?”

“Because his magic makes him gifted at transforming, he can mirror other forms, he can change into a dog or a jaguar…or another man…”

“And we can’t?”

“Different magic users have different skills.”

“What’s your skill?”

“I can make a shield.”

Merlin concentrated on covering his forearms with the fresh lather as though it were the most interesting task in the world, but he watched Chimalli furtively from beneath his lowered lashes and deliberately tainted his words with bitter disappointment, “That’s all? Just a shield?”

As he had hoped Chimalli’s pride was stung and he replied without thinking, “A shield to protect from an arrow, or a shield to cover someone’s thoughts, you can’t attack someone if you can’t remember whose side you are on.” His mouth snapped shut abruptly.

Merlin looked up and gave an apologetic laugh, “Sorry, this slippery root keeps trying to escape to freedom, I completely missed what you said.”

He noticed Chimalli’s shoulders relax and his wary frown morph into a smile, “I said a magical shield is very useful for stopping an arrow, if you’re under attack then you’ll be grateful it’s on your side.”

“Oh, yes,” Merlin said apologetically, “I certainly would be. So what’s Chalchiuhtlicue’s skill?”

“Chalchiuhtlicue has many skills…”

A nearby village lad, he couldn’t have been more than seventeen Merlin guessed, paused from rinsing off his legs and chimed in enthusiastically, “She is a great goddess, she can heal, give the gift of language, bestow…”

“But she’s not a goddess,” interrupted Merlin, “she’s just a magic user like us.”

He heard a ripple of unhappy murmurs from the villagers, and Chimalli shook his head sharply at the seventeen year old, “Hold your tongue Acalan!” and then, more gently to Merlin, “Of course she’s a goddess, just as you and I are gods. That’s what having magic means.”

“I may have forgotten everything else,” snorted Merlin, “but I can definitely say that I’ve never been even a minor deity.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Chimalli sent a warning glare at the villagers and they hastily began rinsing themselves off and moving towards the bank, “we’ll talk about this later,” he hissed at Merlin, “but not here.”

Chagrined, Merlin began rinsing himself off in the cool water. So they were gods here were they? He tried to imagine under what possible scenario he would agree to present himself as a god to the villagers and felt a deep unhappiness gnaw at his gut. Perhaps Chimalli could come up with reasons why they were doing it for the greater good, but Merlin couldn’t see how lying about who you were could ever be right. How could anyone trust you again if you lied to them about something as fundamental as your magic and who you were? He couldn’t remember anything from before he’d woken up the previous day, but one thing he felt for sure, was that he could never lie to people he cared about in that way. How could you ever betray someone’s trust like that…? Perhaps this was more proof that Arthur was right?


	10. Chapter 10

At midday one of the women promptly took Arthur food and water; Merlin wasn’t sure whether it was out of concern for his welfare or just so it gave Merlin no excuse to go over there. Merlin was already resolved to release Arthur after nightfall and then search Chalchiuhtlicue’s hut. What he was still unsure of was what he would do if he didn’t find the pendant and the rings that Arthur had talked about. If Merlin was still in the village the following morning then he was pretty sure that as soon as Chalchiuhtlicue saw the empty ropes around the post she would immediately jump to the conclusion that Merlin was responsible. He’d seen how Arthur had been treated and he really didn’t feel like taking his place. 

He felt a tap on his bare knee and blinked out of his reverie to see Chimalli smiling at him and reaching for his empty bowl, “If you’ve finished eating then I want to take you into the jungle to help you remember how to use your magic.”

Merlin nodded and let him take the bowl before pushing himself to his feet. Chimalli slung a water pouch on a cord across one shoulder and while he moved round the village, collecting various items and slipping them into a small leather bag, Merlin waited for him and watched him thoughtfully. He didn’t think he doubted that Chimalli genuinely cared about him. Earlier that morning, once the other villagers had left the stream, he had persuaded Merlin to sit on the bank with his legs dangling in the water. Then he had stood in front of him and used the soaproot to soften the stubble on Merlin’s face before carefully scraping it away with a razor-sharp flint, gently tilting Merlin’s head this way and that as he shaved the different angles of his jaw. And surely the affectionate looks he kept giving him since couldn’t be faked, no-one was that good an actor. But was that proof that they had been in a long relationship or was Chimalli just very attracted to him? He was fairly certain that Chimalli would step in if Chalchiuhtlicue wanted to hurt him, but he wasn’t sure how much power Chimalli had over the rest of the village, from what he’d seen, Chalchiuhtlicue was definitely the leader here.

Merlin threw a stealthy glance across the square at Arthur only to find him staring back at him, he looked tired, his stubble almost turning into the beginnings of a beard now, and his hair darkened with sweat and sticking to his forehead, Merlin hastily looked away. 

Arthur had been watching him all morning but Merlin steadfastly refused to look at him; he felt a twist of guilt in his stomach, Arthur was probably wondering if he’d changed his mind about helping him, but Merlin told himself that distancing himself from him was the sensible thing to do. Arthur might feel abandoned for a few hours, but he’d soon get over it when Merlin freed him tonight. If Arthur had been lying and there was no pendant or handfasting rings in Chalchiuhtlicue’s hut then Merlin would be staying in the village, and if that happened he wanted as little as possible to link him to Arthur’s escape. 

Chimalli finished collecting all he needed and then led the way out of the village and onto a narrow, dirt path between the trees; Merlin found himself watching the way the dappled sunlight rippled over the smooth copper skin of his shoulders and back. The memory of the previous night came back to him, he’d felt awkward and uneasy then and hadn’t enjoyed it, but he wondered what it would be like to try again with a bit more enthusiasm. For a moment he imagined a lazy coupling in a sunlit clearing, Chimalli’s muscular bronzed body moving over his own. …But then Arthur elbowed his way into his thoughts again and he found himself wondering how Arthur would look at him when he came back to the village, would he be able to tell? He clicked his tongue in irritation and it was loud enough for Chimalli to glance back at him.

“Is anything wrong?” Chimalli had bound his glossy black hair back into a loose knot and it moved against the nape of his neck as he turned his head. Merlin wondered how it would feel to tug the knot free and let the hair fall loose around his shoulders. 

“No,” Merlin forced a cheery smile and gave a little flap of his hand to gesture Chimalli to continue. Once he’d turned Merlin sighed heavily, damn Arthur Pendragon, and that bloody way he kept staring at him, there’d be so sunlit coupling today! How could you betray someone you couldn’t remember, was that even possible? Merlin scowled. It would be so much easier just to sink into the life of the village, he was safe, Chimalli cared for him… Believing Arthur meant leaving all that and running away into danger with a man he didn’t know at all. Of course he respected the stoic way Arthur endured his captivity and the bravery with which he faced up to his captors, but he didn’t know for sure whether he actually liked him. After all, what had they had, one brief conversation? And that hadn’t gone particularly well. It was madness to think of abandoning everything for him. 

So why he did feel such a strong tug in his gut to do just that? He had no real answer and it made him irritable. 

After a little while of walking they exited the trees into a man-made clearing, about three times as long as it was wide; targets made of woven reeds stood at one end, their front sides ripped with holes from spears or arrows.

“We need to find out what you can do,” said Chimalli as he stopped in the centre of the clearing.

“Don’t you know?”

“Of course,” said Chimalli quickly, “but I think it would be better for you if using magic came back naturally, for you to find out what abilities you have by trial and error. The same way you would have learned when you first realised you magic.”

“How old was I?”

“What?”

“When I first knew I had magic.”

Chimalli sat on the scrubby grass, slipped the water pouch off his shoulder and began tipping the things out of his bag. “Thirteen I think, yes, I think it was just before your birthday.”

Merlin sank down cross-legged opposite him, the tail of fabric that hung down from the front of his loincloth draping onto the ground between his open thighs. “What did I do?”

A sly smile and a shake of the head was his only answer and Chimalli pushed the items on the grass towards him. There was a small clay bowl that Chimalli filled with water from the pouch, a ball of dried mud about the size of a chicken’s egg and a handful of dry, yellow grass.

“Lean forwards.”

Merlin did, and Chimalli reached across the space between them to rest his fingers on either side of Merlin’s forehead. “What…?”

Chimalli hushed him and half-closed his eyes. Merlin wondered how long they were meant to sit like this and what the purpose of it was. He was just starting to feel ridiculous and beginning to get the irresistible urge to scratch his nose when he suddenly felt a brush against his mind, it was nearly a physical sensation inside his skull, like a moth crawling delicately over his brain. He almost jerked backwards, but Chimalli’s fingertips pressed slightly harder and reminded him to stay still. He forced himself to remain motionless though the creeping sensation inside his head increased and all he wanted was to cringe away from it and rub his hands briskly through his hair to disperse the feeling.

It seemed like minutes before Chimalli finally withdrew his hands, Merlin shuddered his relief and ran his fingers through his hair. “What was that?”

“When we found you unconscious there was something deeply wrong, someone had used magic to attack you up here,” Chimalli tapped his own forehead, “your mind and your magic were…torn…tattered… I put up shields then, inside your mind, to try to wall off the worst of the damage and give you a chance to recover.”

“Is that what’s stopping me from remembering?” Merlin felt suddenly angry, why hadn’t Chimalli said this before.

“No,” Chimalli paused, then gave a small shrug,“perhaps. It was necessary or the rips would have spread and you would have had no mind or magic left to save. I checked the barriers just now, and the areas around them are starting to heal, I lowered them a little to give you more access to your magic.”

“And what about my memories?”

“They will come back, or they won’t, as your mind continues to heal and as I am able to lower more of the barriers.”

“I want you to take them down now,” said Merlin, “I’ll take my chances, I feel fine, I just want to be able to remember who I am.”

“I can’t do that, it might kill you.”

“Surely that’s my decision to make,” insisted Merlin, “I want you to take them away.”

“And if a man who was bleeding to death told you to take pressure off the wound because it ached, would you do it, or would you tell him to endure it as it was saving his life?”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply…thought about it…and closed it again.

Chimalli ran a gentle hand down Merlin’s cheek and smiled, “When I put the barriers in place, it was an intensely intimate thing to do. Your mind was open before me, I sensed you very deeply. I thought I…“ he paused, “I thought I knew you before, but when I reached into your mind I felt the essence of you there, who you are.”

He struggled to understand, “The things that have happened to me? My thoughts?”

“Nothing quite so tangible,” replied Chimalli, “I just felt the…it was like wading through your soul.”

Merlin’s eyebrows flew up towards his hairline and he felt the flush rising up from his neck, “That sounds…personal.”

Chimalli met his eyes for a moment, and for a moment he looked younger than his years, his expression open and hopeful. Then he seemed to remember what they were here to do and gave a small laugh. He gestured to the things spread on the grass between them. “Choose one.”

Merlin frowned, “And do what?”

“That’s up to you.”

How could he know what to choose or what to do. Merlin thought he might as well start right to left and chose the shallow bowl of water. He stared at it intently, willing the surface of the water to move, the air was still and heavy with heat, the water stayed motionless, a bright disc of blue reflecting the sky. Merlin felt the sweat trickling down between his shoulder-blades, he leaned forwards, his hands gripping his knees. 

“You’re trying too hard.”

Merlin blinked away the perspiration that dripped onto his eyelashes and tried to relax, he could feel a headache building, “Perhaps it would help to do this in the shade.”

Chimalli snorted, “You just want to stop. Keep trying.”

With a small sigh of resignation he continued to stare at the water. He wondered if Chimalli was mistaken about his abilities, perhaps the incident yesterday when he had used magic was a fluke, perhaps he couldn’t control it. Gods he could kill for some icy water at the moment, he was so hot. A vague memory tantalised him of wading through…snow…it had been cold…so cold…had his wrists been tied together?…There was someone with him, the man was turned away, but his mind supplied a glimpse of tousled blond hair and a wind-reddened ear and the very edge of a face. He had been worried about the other man…if he could just see his face…another second or two, if he could just hold onto the daydream for a few seconds more then he knew the man would turn and he would see…

An exclamation of shock snapped him back to the here and now. He blinked in bemusement at Chimalli, who was reaching a tentative hand towards the water bowl, an expression of wary wonderment on his face. Merlin looked down to see Chimalli’s fingertips touch the pile of white in the bowl and draw back as though he’d been burned.

A ripple of delighted laughter burst out of Merlin’s chest, and Chimalli looked at him in confusion. Merlin plunged his hand into the water bowl and snatched up the handful of snow that lay piled in it. It immediately began melting on his palm, but it was deliciously cold.

“It’s snow.” He grabbed Chimalli’s hand and tipped the fluffy handful into it. 

Chimalli flinched and almost flung it away, then paused, and drew his hand closer to his face. The wonder on his face was something to see. “It’s made of tiny…” he didn’t have a word to cover it, “it’s a bit like the patterns they make in cloth.”

“Stars,” said Merlin, “They are tiny stars, like the ones in the sky. Well, the real stars don’t look like that, but still, that’s what we call that shape.” And even as he explained it he wondered how he knew what shape stars were and yet Chimalli didn’t.


	11. Chapter 11

Through the doorway, Merlin could see the moon glimmering over the trees like a puddle of quicksilver, only the tiniest sliver out of its right hand edge showed it was past full. He lay watching it creep slowly upwards in the sky, his body taut as a bowstring. 

Chimalli’s arm had been a lax weight across Merlin’s chest for some time now, but it wasn’t until his breathing was rumbling with the slowness of deep sleep that Merlin finally dared to move. He caught Chimalli’s wrist in a gentle grip, and held it for a long moment until he was sure he wasn’t waking him, then he slowly shifted the arm sideways until it lay on the floor between them. Chimalli mumbled restlessly, and Merlin froze, his lower lip caught between his teeth and his eyes fixed on the packed straw of the roof above him, but after a few moments Chimalli fell silent and his breathing settled back into the sleepy rhythm it had before. 

He would postpone putting on his loincloth until he got outside the hut, fumbling with the long length of material would be sure to wake the other man. Instead, Merlin crept naked around the dark interior of the hut, gathering a few things that would be useful if he didn’t return. He took the leather pouch with its long cord to hang across the shoulder that Chimalli had worn to the stream that morning; a clump of soaproot and the shaving flint was still in the bottom and Merlin dropped several handfuls of beans and some green leafy vegetables from the large pots along the wall in on top, enough to make a couple of meals until he could find food himself. Lastly he took one of the leather water pouches hanging on the wall and scooped up the loose material of his loincloth carefully under one arm.

The square outside was empty of villagers, the hard-packed earth and the huts silvered by moonlight. Beyond the roofs the trees were a dense, inky blackness but alive with the burping croaks of frogs and the rattling whirr of the fat grasshopper-like insects that Chimalli had pointed out to him that afternoon. Every now and again a screech or chirruping hoot would echo out of the darkness and Merlin couldn’t even guess what sort of animals might be making them; it was one thing to hear the noises in the daytime but they seemed to acquire a threatening other-worldliness to them at night. As he padded across the square to where Arthur was tied he was acutely conscious of the dark mouth of every open doorway, if even a single villager was restless and glanced out of their hut then they’d see him easily in the moonlight. He quickened his steps and felt a shiver of relief roll over him when he reached Arthur’s side and was able to move into the meagre shadow of the stake. He dumped what he was carrying in a pile on the ground and then crouched to rummage through the bag for the flint. 

“I’m not complaining,” whispered Arthur, “but is it very practical?”

Merlin felt the blood rush up to warm his neck and cheeks and turned slightly to one side so that he was offering Arthur less of a view. “I’ll put the loincloth on when we’re in the shadows, it’s a pain to get right.”

“And you don’t think that’s strange if you’ve lived here all your life?”

“Perhaps,” conceded Merlin. He found the flint and sidled behind Arthur, as he expected, the rope running around Arthur’s chest and binding his body to the pole was too tightly knotted to easily unpick, he began sawing at it with the sharp, stone blade.

“Even if we don’t find the pendant and rings, you must have seen enough now to realise you don’t belong here?”

“Hush, someone will hear you.”

Arthur’s shoulders tensed as though he wanted to argue but he fell silent.

As he sawed at the rope he kept one anxious eye on the moon, watching its slow rise in the sky, and acutely aware of valuable time passing. It seemed to take an age before he had sliced through it enough to grip it between his hands and snap the remaining strands. He hastily stood up and unwrapped its encircling coils from Arthur’s chest and the pole; Arthur almost fell forward as his support was removed and Merlin put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Easy, nearly done.”

“I’m fine.” He held out his hands, and Merlin couldn’t hide a wince, even by moonlight he could see that the rope was dark with blood and his wrists were rubbed raw. Whenever he was left alone he must have been trying to twist his hands free. Merlin knelt beside him and began cutting, fortunately this rope was somewhat thinner than the previous one, but he couldn’t help flinching guiltily every time the motion of the blade made the fibres pull roughly across the raw skin. He glanced up at Arthur to see that his jaw was clenched and there was a small crease between his brows, but to his wonder he didn’t make a sound. Once the rope was sawn through, he left it to Arthur to gingerly unwrap it from his bloodied wrists while he turned to the bindings around Arthur’s ankles. 

Arthur bit down hard on the back of his fist when his ankles were finally freed and he tentatively moved his feet, after he’d been kept still for so long Merlin could guess that the renewed circulation rushing through his limbs must be agonising. Without realising he was doing it, he reached out a sympathetic hand to squeeze Arthur’s arm, and the startled smile that Arthur suddenly turned on him seemed to go through him like lightning, raising goosebumps all over his body. Arthur clasped his own hand over the top of Merlin’s before he could draw it back. “Gods, I’ve missed you.”

Merlin didn’t know how to respond, he parted his lips to answer but then didn’t know what to say. Arthur withdrew his hand and his blinding smile became something tight and unhappy, he shook his head slightly, as though to clear it, and when he spoke his voice was quiet but brisk, “Well, one thing at a time.”

He made to stand but Merlin blinked himself out of his confusion and stopped him. “Wait!” He used the flint to rip a small strip of fabric from the end of his loincloth and knelt by Arthur’s feet, “Bite down on your knuckles again, this’ll hurt, but it’ll be easier to walk.” He used the strip of fabric to bind Arthur’s broken toe to the one beside it, so that the unbroken one could act as a splint, then, when he’d finished, he helped Arthur get to his feet. After being forced to sit for so long, with only the occasional break to relieve himself, Arthur’s joints creaked in protest and he had to lean heavily on Merlin in order to hobble over to the shelter of the jungle’s edge. Merlin left him leaning against the bole of a massive tree and dashed back into the square to retrieve his things. Once he was back in the shadows with Arthur he dumped the water pouch and leather bag on the ground and began to wind the loincloth around his hips, he glanced up to see Arthur watching him intently. He wasn’t sure whether to be embarrassed or amused. “You could look the other way.”

Arthur blinked, “What? Oh, I’m just used to…” he bit his lower lip and Merlin thought he detected a flush rising up his neck as he turned his head to look out into the darkness of the jungle instead, “Sorry.”

When the loincloth was tied well enough that Merlin thought there was no danger of it falling straight off again, he coughed quietly to let Arthur know he could turn back. “Here, you take the water pouch and this bag, there’s the flint in it and some food…but don’t eat the root at the bottom. If you head down that path over there,” Merlin pointed at the trail he’d taken with Chimalli that afternoon, “you’ll come to a large clearing. Wait there. If I don’t appear by the time the moon hits the trees, then I’m not coming and you’ll have to leave on your own.”

Once Arthur had slung the straps of the water pouch and the leather bag over his shoulder, Merlin turned to leave him and began to creep towards the narrow path that led round the back of the nearest huts. He’d only gone a few paces before he realised that Arthur was at his heels, he turned angrily to hiss at him, “What are you doing?” 

“Coming with you.”

“I don’t know what they’ll do to me if they catch me, but I’m pretty sure Chalchiuhtlicue will torture you.”

Arthur shrugged as though it had no impact on his decision.

“And if I decide not to leave with you?” snapped Merlin, frustrated that he’d made all this effort to free Arthur and now the man was putting himself back in danger again.

“Then I might as well stay anyway,” replied Arthur quietly, “as there’s nothing out there for me without you.”

Merlin stared at him, it didn’t make sense that he could inspire this sort of loyalty in anyone, even if Arthur was speaking the truth and they were handfasted it was still madness to risk torture and death for him. Merlin knew he just wasn’t worthy of that sort of devotion, but something in the set of Arthur’s mouth told him that he might as well try arguing with a river that it ought to flow uphill. When Merlin finally spoke his voice was husky and he had to swallow against the lump in his throat in order to whisper clearly. “Well, follow me then, but try and tread where I do and don’t make a sound.”

Arthur gave him a broad grin and Merlin turned away to hide his confusion as he began to lead the way around the edge of the village towards Chalchiuhtlicue’s hut. He heard Arthur’s amused whisper behind him, “You’re teaching me how to stalk? Just wait till you get your memory back, you’ll never live this down…”


	12. Chapter 12

Chalchiuhtlicue’s hut stood at one corner of the square, next to one of the communal gardens that formed either end of the central meeting area. Merlin guessed it must be one of the prime sites in the village and fortunately for them it meant that the hut was only neighboured on one side. They crept along the back wall, and then turned down the narrow path between the hut and the garden; tall flower spikes so heavy with blooms that they couldn’t support their own weight bowed drunkenly across the narrow path. Merlin guessed the flowers might be pink in daylight but they looked a ghostly grey under the moon; as they quietly brushed through them the petals whispered with silky softness against their bare shoulders and released a heady perfume onto to the warm, night breeze. Behind him, he heard a quiet rustle as the leather bag and the water pouch were set down against the mud wall of the hut.

He wondered if Arthur’s stomach was churning like his own, but when he looked back over his shoulder he was surprised to see that Arthur looked alert but perfectly calm. Arthur gave a terse nod of encouragement and Merlin felt the uneasiness in his gut subside somewhat. He ran his tongue across his teeth to try to ease the dryness in his mouth and then slid round the corner of the hut and moved forward until he was able to peer into the dark interior; Chalchiuhtlicue was asleep on a mat against the left hand wall, she was curled away from him and wearing a simple shift, her loosely braided hair snaked across the mat behind her shoulders like a black serpent. He held his breath and watched her, suddenly sure that she was faking and would sit up and laugh at them. Her ribs seemed to be barely moving, but was that true sleep or was she trying to draw them into a trap where they could be easily caught. Perhaps she had been aware of the escape attempt all along and was merely enjoying a cruel game of cat and mouse with Arthur; letting him think that he was close to freedom and then reeling him back in again was exactly the sort of thing that she would do. Merlin’s stomach was back to roiling again, he couldn’t bear the thought of what that would do to Arthur, surely it would break even someone as resilient as he seemed to be. 

He must have stood there for longer than he realised as Arthur’s index finger jabbed him painfully under the ribs and he turned with an annoyed frown to see Arthur roll his eyes at the doorway and give a sharp jerk of his head. Merlin longed to reply that he would get on with it in his own time, thank you very much, but had to be content with just giving Arthur a stern glare. To his annoyance Arthur seemed woefully unimpressed and just jerked his head at the doorway again. 

Merlin’s carefully placed footsteps sounded cringingly loud to his own ears and were the only thing that broke the silence. If Arthur had followed him in, then despite his broken toe and aching body he must be moving as silently as a cat, perhaps he had decided to wait outside. Merlin glanced back…to find that Arthur was in fact, startlingly close behind him. Merlin jerked in surprise and let out a low gasp. Arthur’s eyes widened and flickered across to Chalchiuhtlicue to check she was still sleeping, then he looked back at Merlin, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Merlin gave an apologetic shrug and wished he could sink through the floor.

Shaking his head, Arthur took the opportunity to point Merlin towards the pots and folded material at the back of the hut, he then tapped his own chest and gestured towards the stack of similar items that lay just inside the right of the entrance. Merlin nodded and padded away, he was half way across the hut before he realised that he was slightly disconcerted by how readily he accepted Arthur taking charge. 

The pots along the back wall turned out to merely contain the same sort of assorted beans and vegetables as were stored in Chimalli’s hut, but when he turned to look through the pile of carefully folded fabrics that were Chalchiuhtlicue’s clothes he found a square leather bag almost immediately. It was quite unlike any workmanship he’d seen in the village so far. He untied the cord that held the front flap closed and reached inside. There were some clothes but it was too dark to see the fashion of them, he quickly riffled past a small, leather-bound book, a short leather necklace with some sort of pointed stone pendant on it, and a wide gold ring. For a moment he paused on the ring, his heart in his throat as he wondered if it was one of the handfasting rings that Arthur had talked about, but when he slipped it on he realised that it was obviously far too large to fit either his or Arthur’s ring finger, it was more likely a ring for the thumb or index finger. Deeper in the bag, down amongst the clothes, nestled a short knife in a sheath, he half drew it and the steel blade caught what little light there was and glimmered like a slender silver leaf, it was quite different from any of the stone-bladed knives he’d seen in the village. 

Arthur had come up to stand behind him and was looking over his shoulder, Merlin tucked the knife back into the bag and passed it up to Arthur’s waiting hand. Arthur pointed at the bag and then at himself to indicate that this one had been his, he then crouched down beside him to help him look through the remainder of the garment pile. Arthur was the one who found the second bag, he pulled it out and unfastened the flap, then rummaged urgently through it. For a moment his face fell, but then Merlin could almost see the relief run physically through his body in the instant that he found what he was looking for. Merlin found himself holding his breath as Arthur withdrew something from the bag and then placed it into Merlin’s hand. It was a cool, metal disc on a slender chain. Merlin stared at it, he knew this pendant, he moved the silver chain in an effort to see the design more clearly but it was too dark to really make it out. Still he ran his fingertips over it and felt the flying hawk, the dragon on the other side pressed with comforting familiarity into his palm. 

Gods! What Arthur had been saying was really true and the weight of that realisation hitting home made him feel slightly dizzy. Although he still couldn’t remember any more than this, the disc sat in his hand, pregnant with the echoes of his past, like a key waiting to unlock a floodgate. He slipped the chain over his head and felt the pendant rest in the centre of his chest, he knew that it belonged there. He raised his eyes to meet Arthur’s and it was only when he had to blink to see them properly that he realised that his own were blurred with tears.

The rings had also been in the bag and Arthur opened his right hand to show them on his palm. He slipped the larger ring onto the third finger of his left hand, and as he did so a tiny bit of tension dissipated from Arthur’s shoulders, Merlin hadn’t even realised the tension was there until this instant when he saw it ease away. He held out his hand for Merlin’s and Merlin put his left hand on top of Arthur’s, feeling the heat of Arthur’s skin and the rough callouses on his palm. Merlin watched in breathless fascination as Arthur slid the second ring onto Merlin’s ring finger. Merlin felt its almost imperceptible weight settle home on his hand and realised that he hadn’t even known that he was missing something until now that that it was back. Suddenly his hand felt “right” somehow in a subtle way that it hadn’t before.

Arthur smiled warmly and this time Merlin found himself returning the smile, somewhat shyly, but with a dawning realisation of what they might have between them. Arthur straightened to a standing position and used Merlin’s hand that was still clasped in his to pull Merlin up likewise. 

Merlin saw her first, she was sitting up and watching them.

“Be quiet,” said Merlin, “we don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“He doesn’t want to hurt you,” added Arthur quietly, “personally, I’m not so bothered.”


	13. Chapter 13

For a long moment they stared at each other and then Chalchiuhtlicue screamed; it wasn’t a shout of fear but a mixture of rage and a call to arms, it rebounded within the walls of the small hut and made Merlin’s ears ring.

Arthur lurched towards her, drawing his knife, but Merlin grabbed his arm. Arthur’s head snapped round to look at him and Merlin read suspicion and dismay in his narrowed eyes, he thought Merlin was trying to protect her! Merlin flinched but didn’t release his grip. “Don’t touch her, remember how she forced the language into you? Touch her and she can get into your head.”

Arthur’s expression cleared, then darkened again as he looked towards the doorway, bobbing torches were appearing in the square and the sound of footsteps and shouting came closer. 

“We all have our skills,” said Chalchiuhtlicue calmly, and it was so at odds with the mob assembling outside and the tension thrumming through his body, that for a moment Merlin was thrown and didn’t realise that she was responding to what he’d said. “Chimalli has the finesse to create a barrier cutting off your memories,” she continued, “but I can do other things, go into people’s minds to heal…to destroy…” she looked at Arthur, “I could turn you into a drooling idiot, and if I hadn’t intended you as a gift for Tezcatlipoca then I would have done it already,” she tapped her front teeth thoughtfully with a fingernail, “perhaps I still might.” 

“Aren’t you fighting against Tezcatlipoca,” said Merlin, “why do you want to give him a gift?”

Still focused on the activity beyond the doorway, Arthur hissed, “Strangely, Merlin, I don’t care.”

“You should,” said Chalchiuhtlicue, “as it makes your escape pointless.”

A voice came from outside, rising above the angry speech of the other villagers,“Chalchiuhtlicue, are you unharmed?” It was Chimalli, he had come to the forefront of the crowd outside. Like most of the other villagers, he had a torch in one hand sending flickering orange light across his face and a long wood and stone sword in the other. The torches the villagers held illumined the square around them so no-one could leave the hut unseen, but at the same time Merlin realised that they were also dazzling the people holding them and dulling their night vision. Although Chimalli seemed to be looking right at them, Merlin doubted that he would be able to make out anything going on in the hut’s dark interior.

Arthur seemed to realise the same thing, he was still a good three paces away from Chalchiuhtlicue, but he called out, “If you take a step closer I’ll cut her throat.” 

Merlin looked at him startled, Arthur’s naked torso was outlined by the shimmering light beyond the doorway and every muscle in his back seemed taut and ready to spring, the light rippled over the blade in his hand as he raised it slightly. Would he really cut her throat? The idea made him feel sick. Suddenly the light from the doorway seemed too bright and Merlin clenched his eyes against it even as a headache crashed down like a hammer inside his skull. Behind his eyelids he saw a blaze of colours that made his head spin, the glow of candlelight mixed with a jumble of Jewel-tones, and amidst the confusion he saw a woman, she was slender and delicate, her hair long and dark like Chalchiuhtlicue’s but her face as pale as the snow he’d created in his palm that afternoon. 

This wasn’t something from his imagination, this was one of his memories breaking through, he knew that. His mouth felt dry and he wanted to turn the memory off, he knew something terrible was happening and he didn’t want to see it, but he couldn’t stop his gaze moving downwards from her terrified green eyes to the woman’s graceful neck. Her hands were clutching her throat and blood was gushing scarlet from between her fingers. Too much blood, it flooded down the front of her exquisite dress turning it from purple to burgundy. This had happened, he was sure of it, it was a memory. And the woman’s death was connected to Arthur, he knew that too. And then, tangled up in the memory was another image, this time of Arthur’s face smiling up at him, warm and fond and not at all distressed, Arthur’s hands were covered in blood... Merlin felt as though he couldn’t breathe. Had Arthur done that? Cut that woman’s throat as he was now threatening to cut Chalchiuhtlicue’s? What kind of killer had Merlin aligned himself with? 

“Don’t listen to him, he’s…” Chalchiuhtlicue’s voice made Merlin’s eyes snap open again.

She was pushing herself to her feet, the movement was taking her closer to Arthur, and at any moment Arthur would launch himself forward to stop her. Did he want to save her from Arthur’s blade, or was he trying to save Arthur from her touch? Merlin panicked and lashed out with his mind, his magic surged out of him instinctively, slamming into her and shoving her backwards, she flew from her knees and thumped down onto her back on the dirt floor, her head hit one of the waist-high clay pots standing against the wall and her body went bonelessly to the floor.

“Well done,” grinned Arthur looking around, though his smile dropped away when he saw Merlin’s expression, and even in the gloom Merlin could see his face grow paler, “Merlin…?”

Chimalli shouted from outside the hut, “What’s going on in there? Chalchiuhtlicue? Merlin? Are you in there?”

“Is she alive?” breathed Merlin.

Arthur took the few steps to crouch next to her and put his hand to her neck. Merlin’s mouth felt dry and he realised he was trembling. Arthur nodded and straightened up. “She’s unconscious.”

He went to move closer to Merlin and frowned as Merlin took an involuntary step backwards.

“I’m in here,” shouted Merlin, “Chalchiuhtlicue is fine, but she’s unconscious. He has me hostage, he’s going to kill me if you don’t let him go.”

“He’ll never believe that.” whispered Arthur. 

When Merlin slipped off the pendant and slid the handfasting ring from his finger he was surprised to see Arthur flinch as though he’d been slapped.

“I’m just putting them in my pack,” said Merlin, “they won’t believe I’m your prisoner if I’m wearing these.”

He crept across the hut and retrieved their bags, thrusting the jewellery into the bottom of one of them and slinging both bags across one shoulder. 

“Let Merlin go,” shouted Chimalli, “it’s pointless for you to escape anyway.”

“She said that as well,” hissed Merlin, “ask him why?”

“It’s what people say when they have you trapped, it doesn’t mean…”

“Ask him…please.”

Arthur raised his voice, “Escape seems a pretty good idea to me, explain why it’s not.”

“We were going to give you to Tezcatlipoca as a peace offering, we’ve seen how quickly you regenerate from injury, your heart is strong, he’d want to to take it and use it himself.”

“Use it?” said Merlin quietly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur shouted back to Chimalli, “but it doesn’t sound like anything I’d want to hang around for.”

“Mortal hearts wear out,” said Chimalli, “Tezcatlipoca has to replace his frequently, your heart might last him years.”

“Is he saying what I think he’s saying?” said Merlin. This night was turning into one horror piled on top of another.

“I still don’t see why that would make me want to stay here,” Arthur responded to Chimalli.

“Because giving you to Tezcatlipoca was a trick,” replied Chimalli, “when Chalchiuhtlicue was first tending you, she saw your healing abilities and knew she could use you against him. She’s buried a spell within your heart, after a time it will release a deadly magic. We’d planned that by that time your heart would be in Tezcatlipoca’s body, killing him instantly. But if you run away, then it’ll be in your body killing you.”

“So I’m dead either way,” grimaced Arthur, “at least I can choose to die in one piece.”

“You wouldn’t be dead,” said Chimalli, “you’d be like the other heartless ones, you’d have to serve as a warrior, but you’d still be alive.”

Arthur lowered his voice to speak to Merlin, “Before we were captured, we saw a man with no heart, he was alive.” Then while Merlin was still trying to imagine how that could be possible Arthur raised his voice again and said to Chimalli, “The heartless one I saw had run himself to death, they have no will of their own.” 

“Little,” agreed Chimalli, “but some.”

“Give me a moment to think about it.” Arthur sighed and the tension seemed to flow out of his shoulders, he looked at Merlin for a long moment his gaze lingering on his face. Then he set his jaw and looked away. “You stay here, at least I can go down fighting.”

“You won’t die, they’ll recapture you.”

Arthur took a firmer grip on his knife, “I won’t let them.”

Merlin still didn’t know the meaning of his vision earlier, whether Arthur really had cut that woman’s throat, but he couldn’t let him go. Perhaps there had been a reason he’d had to do it, thought Merlin desperately, though the woman had been wearing jewels and a dress for a feast, and carried no weapon, so he couldn’t think why… Merlin shook the memory away for the moment, he’d question Arthur about it later…if there was a later. “No, Chimalli could be lying, or perhaps we can find someone to heal you…we need to get out of here and have time to think.”

Perhaps Arthur would turn out to be some sort of cold-blooded killer, but the memory had at least proved that he’d been speaking the truth about knowing Merlin before. Surely there must have been a reason he was still travelling with the man and apparently handfasted to him too. “Hit me!”

“What?” Arthur recoiled from him, “No!”

“I’m your hostage, they have to believe you’re willing to kill me or they’ll just capture us both.” 

“I can’t.”

Not that much of a cold-blooded killer then…

Merlin’s smile widened, then faded again as he looked at the muscles of Arthur’s biceps and realised what he was asking him to do. This was going to hurt. “The face would be best, make my nose bleed so that it looks worse than it is.”

“Merlin, I can’t.”

“Now I know you were speaking the truth do you think I can go back to Chimalli’s bed?” Merlin shuddered, “When Chalchiuhtlicue wakes up she’ll tell them I was with you willingly, they’ll take my memories away again. Are you going to leave me here alone for that?”

Arthur rubbed his eyes with his fingers as though they ached, then switched the knife to his left hand and straightened his back, “Ready?”

Merlin nodded and closed his eyes.

The fist took him on the right side of the face and nose and made him stagger backwards, his eyes watering. It hurt, but not enough, and when he reached up to feel his face his fingers came away dry. “You pulled the punch too much. Again.”

Arthur looked almost ill, “Merlin...”

Merlin knew any sympathy would just make things harder, so he injected anger into his voice instead, “If you did it right the first time, I wouldn’t be having to get hit again. For Gods sake do it properly this time and make my nose bleed, I’m not a child, just hit me…”

This time Arthur’s fist knocked him off his feet and he found himself sitting woozily on the dirt floor. Warm wetness was gushing over his mouth and dripping off his chin onto his chest, he tasted blood. Arthur was crouching at this side an instant later, his hand squeezing Merlin’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do it that hard.”

Merlin grinned at him while tentatively feeling his nose, it wasn’t broken, “Better than doing it too gently again, this will work.” He put out a bloody hand and let Arthur haul him to his feet.

Arthur looked at the doorway, then held out his left arm to encourage Merlin to back up to his body. Once Merlin was standing with his back pressed against Arthur’s bare chest, Arthur clamped his left arm across Merlin’s chest holding him in place, and raised the knife in his right hand to set the blade against Merlin’s throat. 

Merlin shivered and closed his eyes for a moment, not sure if it was the aftershock of being hit, or whether it was fear of the knife resting against his windpipe. Arthur didn’t even want to hit him, there’s no way he’d slice open Merlin’s throat. “I’m ready,” he had to take a deep breath through his mouth, as his nose was still flooded with blood.

“I’m coming out with Merlin,” shouted Arthur, “Stand back or I’ll kill him.”


	14. Chapter 14

As they hesitated in the hut Arthur felt despair gnawing at his vitals, he had hoped they would be able to creep away while the village slept as he knew he was in no physical condition to fight or run. His head and body ached from days of little sleep and water, and even if he managed to fool Chimalli into letting them leave, it would be simple for the village warriors to follow their trail and hunt them down, this was their home ground and not his. He’d never lost his enjoyment of physical training and was used to relying on his body as a finely honed instrument, but now he felt almost betrayed by its weakness. He fought to hide the trembling in his legs and his arms ached from being so long tied. The hand holding the knife against Merlin’s throat quivered and he felt Merlin’s hands reach up to grip his wrist. For a moment he was stricken by the idea that Merlin had second thoughts, but then he realised that although it would look as though Merlin was struggling against him, in fact Merlin was using his grip to hold Arthur’s hand steady and to press the knife more tightly against his skin. Knowing Merlin was working with him made him straighten his shoulders and move a little surer as they stepped out into the doorway.

“Let him go, there’s no point hurting him.” Chimalli looked horrified at the blood on Merlin’s face and sounded as though he genuinely cared, even after the way he’d lied to Merlin and stolen his memories. 

Arthur felt a tremor run through Merlin’s body, before the last few days Arthur would have known for certainty that it was anger, but now that Merlin was floundering around without his memories Arthur wasn’t sure what thoughts or feelings would be running through his head. He ached for Merlin’s confusion and used the arm around Merlin’s chest to give him small squeeze, hoping it would silently convey his support. Then Arthur raised his voice and addressed the people surrounding them. “You need to all move back, I’ve got nothing to lose here, but from the way you’ve treated him I think Merlin is valuable to you.”

“You won’t kill him,” the confident assertion came from the unpleasant young woman who’d deliberately fed him chilies, Zyanya he thought her name was, “he’s your friend.”

He heard Merlin’s breath catch, Zyanya had just accidentally given him another confirmation that Arthur was telling him the truth.

A couple of the villagers edged tentatively forwards, but Arthur bared his teeth in a snarl and his glare temporarily stopped them in their tracks. He knew the situation was turning against them and there wasn’t a thing he could do, they were calling his bluff and he had nothing to back it up with.

“Please Chimalli, he’ll do it, he’s desperate, I’m scared. Please just let him go and he says he’ll release me once we’re in the jungle.” Merlin’s voice held so much terror that Arthur almost believed it himself. 

“I can’t take him with me,” Arthur said with angry regret, playing along, “you’ve given me no choice, he doesn’t know me. I don’t know what you’ve done but you’ve changed him.”

Chimalli tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowed, “How do I know…”

Merlin’s fingers pushed on his wrist and forced the blade tighter against his own throat, Arthur felt the slight yield of Merlin’s skin parting beneath the steel and struggled to keep the dismay from his face. But the ploy was working, it looked as though Arthur was beginning to lightly cut into Merlin’s throat and even Zyana looked stunned. Arthur’s mouth felt dry, Merlin was taking too much of a chance, a slight misjudgment and he’d end up slicing too deep. Arthur wanted to ease the pressure on the blade, but as he tried to pull it slightly back Merlin confidently pressed it in harder. Arthur froze, terrified that his weary arm muscle would spasm and that the sudden lack of resistance would make Merlin accidentally cut his own throat.

Blood trickled down from the cut and Arthur felt it begin to collect in a warm puddle in the join where his arm was wrapped around Merlin’s chest to hold him against him.

Chimalli hesitated for a moment and then his shoulders dropped. “Step back, let them through.”

“You can’t believe him!” Zyana was outraged, “When Chalchiuhtlicue finds that you’ve…”

Chimalli whirled on her, his torch sending the shadows skittering crazily around them,“You overstep your place! And Chalchiuhtlicue would be angrier to find Merlin dead.” Then he met Arthur’s eyes and his expression was cold, “Where can he go? Let him have his brief moment of freedom. We’ll have Merlin back soon enough.”

Arthur tried not to believe that it was probably true. He held himself tightly under control, he couldn’t afford to show any weakness to the villagers even though he wanted to sag with relief when Merlin finally relaxed the pressure on the knife and he could ease it back a fraction. The grumbling crowd reluctantly shuffled back a few steps and Arthur slowly backed up holding Merlin in front of him, he let his shoulder brush the side of the hut so that he knew he was going straight towards the edge of the building. He kept his gaze fixed on the villagers, not daring to look behind him, carefully feeling for where to place his feet, knowing that if he miss-stepped and stumbled the villagers would be on them in seconds and overpower him like hounds taking down a stag.

It seemed to take an age to turn the corner and get out of sight. As soon as they were in the narrow path between the hut and the garden Arthur released Merlin but was startled by how hastily Merlin darted away from him, he wondered whether all of Merlin’s fear had been an act, did he really scare him? Merlin was leaning over to snatch something up from the ground, and Arthur was confused until he remembered the water pouch and leather bag that they’d left there propped against the wall. Merlin turned to look back at him, his face was pale as a skull under the moonlight and his eyes shadowed and unreadable. The night stole the colours from everything, turning the blood into an ink-black trail running from beneath his Adam’s apple and down onto the ghostly whiteness of his chest. 

“Arthur!” Merlin’s hiss was like a whip crack that got Arthur moving again. Arthur shook his head to shake the cobwebs out of it, he must be wearier than he thought to hesitate like that. He gave a sharp nod and followed Merlin down the path. There was no sound of pursuit, no doubt Chimalli was going to leave it till morning and then track them down at leisure. He was dubious himself as to how far and how fast he would be able to go, but if he was going to die at least he’d die free. Perhaps if they managed to get far enough then Merlin would be able to continue on alone and stay out of their clutches long enough for his memory to return.

They were at the edge of the village now and the jungle loomed over them like a whispering sheet of darkness. Arthur was startled, and then pleased, to feel Merlin’s hand sliding warmly into his and tugging him forwards into the shelter of the trees. They plunged into the jungle together.


	15. Chapter 15

The tree canopy blocked most of the moonlight, but for some time they ploughed onward, stumbling blindly over tree roots, lurching up slopes and down into unexpected dips. Several times one or other of them missed their footing and almost turned their ankle. Once they’d put enough distance between them and the village Arthur tugged on Merlin’s hand. “Stop! We need light or we’ll end up breaking a leg.”

When Merlin slipped his hand from Arthur’s Arthur knew a moment’s panic as he immediately lost track of him in the darkness. Then he heard the harsh wheezing of Merlin catching his breath and was relieved to realise that he was only an arms-reach away.

“There’s…” Merlin paused and panted, “…a shaving flint in one of the bags, we can use it to make a fire.”

“Can’t you create a light with magic?” There was silence except for the whirr of night insects and Merlin’s gradually softening breathing, Arthur wished he could see his expression. “Merlin?”

“I don’t remember how.”

Arthur groped out and found Merlin’s shoulder. “You pushed Chalchiuhtlicue with magic, so you know it’s still there, you just have to tap into it.” He waited as the minutes stretched into one another and the night remained resolutely black. 

“It’s not working.”

He didn’t think Merlin realised how difficult it would be to fashion a torch from the unknown varieties of trees that surrounded them, in Europe he would have known which types were rich in sticky, flammable sap, but here… “Try again, try to…reach down into yourself, it was a round blue light, it would float in the air and you could…”

Merlin shrugged his hand away and his voice was loud with a mixture of frustration and guilt, “I don’t remember HOW!”

“You’re giving up too quickly, this isn’t you, Merlin, you’re stubborn, you try and try again.”

“You don’t understand, I don’t remember my magic and I don’t even remember what I’m like. Do I give up easily? Do I just stand by and watch women get murdered? I don’t know. Maybe I’m not the person you remember anymore.”

“What? I don’t even know what you’re talking about? We didn’t kill Chalchiuhtlicue it was all a bluff.”

“I didn’t mean Chalchiuhtlicue.” Arthur heard Merlin’s teeth click together as he abruptly snapped his mouth shut. 

Arthur was bewildered, “Then who do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Merlin, talk to me.” When Merlin remained silent, Arthur snorted, “If there’s one thing you’ve always done, it’s say what’s on your mind, don’t stop now.” He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as he said it but it was too late to call it back.

“Stop telling me who I am! I hardly know you and you’re trying to mould me into someone.”

“I’m not…” Arthur paused, arguing was only going to upset Merlin further. He damped down the hurt that Merlin barely knew who he was and forced a smile, he hoped it came over in his voice. “Find the flint, we’ll use that.”

It took a moment for Merlin to move, and then he heard him rummaging through one of the bags. “It’s here,” Merlin hesitated, “I’m not sure how good I am at starting a fire.”

“Rotten I should think,” said Arthur lightly, “You haven’t needed anything as mundane as a flint for years. Here, pass it to me.”

Merlin’s searching fingers found Arthur’s arm, and then felt down it to press the stone into Arthur’s palm. 

“Keep your hand there,” said Arthur as he crouched and unpeeled a strand of rope that was still clinging around his ankle. He straightened and used his knife to cut off the part that was damp with sweat and blood before putting the remainder into Merlin’s hand, “Unpick this so that we can use the fibres for tinder.”

While Merlin was busy doing that Arthur groped around on the jungle floor for any small twigs or dried leaves that he could find, then he swiped an area clear with his hand and piled the assorted leaf litter into one place. “You finished?”

“Here.” Merlin passed him the fluffy fibres.

Arthur piled the separated rope fibres onto the cleared earth in a small mound before crouching next to them and using the sharp edge of the flint to strike down the steel blade of his knife. Tiny orange sparks flashed off the knife and showered down; he winced at using a good blade this way, but there wasn’t any alternative. A few more quick strikes with the flint and one of the orange sparks caught and shimmered on the tinder. Arthur went down on hands and knees now, blowing onto it to coax it into a flame before adding the leaf litter slowly onto it until it blossomed into a fully fledged fire. He looked up and could see Merlin now, the orange light flickering over his skin. Merlin passed him a handful of dry sticks to add to the flames and then dumped their bags off his shoulders onto the ground by the fire. 

Once they’d added more twigs and the fire was burning healthily Arthur rose to his feet and began undoing his loincloth.

“What are you doing?”

Arthur was surprised by the nervousness in Merlin’s voice, what on Earth did he imagine he was doing? “I want to change into my breeches.” When Merlin’s expression didn’t relax, he added, “I need to relieve myself.”

Merlin was still staring at him warily, Arthur ducked his head and turned his back to hide the anger flushing his features, he snapped, “I won’t be able to retie this thing, they always kept my hands tied when they let me go, and then retied the cloth for me.”

There was long silence and his cheeks burned with shame, then a low “Ah!“ from Merlin that was small and apologetic. 

Arthur snatched his cut-off breeches from one of the bags and tugged them on, “You don’t have to worry about your virtue, Merlin,” he said, rather more harshly than he intended, “I’m tired, I’m in pain and I’m fleeing for my life. But even if none of those did it, then just the fact that you don’t know who I am would be more than enough to dampen my libido.”

He thought Merlin might have said something, but he was already moving away from the firelight and into the shelter of the jungle. He stumbled away through the darkness further than he had intended to. He was a man, and if you were on a patrol or in a group of travellers it was nothing to take yourself off to the edge of the camp and urinate, quite possibly in the presence of other men doing the same and no-one thought anything of it. But the village had been different, the two reluctant men who’d been assigned to take him off whenever he’d needed to relieve himself had removed his loincloth with a mixture of disgust and laughter, and then watched him and made joking comments to each other while he went, as though he were a dumb beast they were minding. He’d felt helpless and degraded. Somehow now he couldn’t bear for Merlin to hear the sound of him pissing like an animal.

When he was some distance from the fire he relieved himself, and then refastened his breeches and stood for a while in the darkness as his heartbeat slowed, feeling an idiot. Far worse things had happened to him over the years, so why this had touched such a raw nerve he didn’t know, Merlin must be baffled by why he was acting so oddly. He turned around and made his way back to the camp, surprised by how far he’d walked; it was a few minutes before he saw the flicker of light through the trees. That had been stupid, he could have got turned around in the darkness and lost Merlin and the fire completely. He shook his head at himself, if that had been one of his knights he’d have shouted at them for it when they came back. One of his knights…Gods, that was so long ago now, Leon, Lancelot, Gwaine… they would all have died years ago. He tried to remember Leon’s face, but although the unkempt red curls were vivid in his memory, the features blurred into uncertainty. Losing his clear memories of them felt as though he was steadily losing a small part of himself. Was this how Merlin felt at the moment, unable to remember the faces from his past and adrift and alone in the present? 

When Arthur re-entered the circle of firelight Merlin started to his feet, his body seemed to be almost visibly thrumming with tension and his muscles were taut, Arthur noticed distractedly that he’d changed his loincloth for his breeches. “I thought you’d left me.”

“Never,” said Arthur quietly, abashed by his display of weakness, being run-down by the days of captivity was no excuse, he needed to get control of himself. “I wasn’t far away,” he lied.

Merlin took a few hesitant steps towards him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply, I know you wouldn’t…”

“You don’t know anything of the kind, you don’t remember what I would or wouldn’t do,” said Arthur briskly, at Merlin’s wounded look he qualified more gently, “and that’s not your fault. But, so you know, I would never touch you like that unless you wanted me to.”

“I’ve been so caught up in trying to remember, to work out what’s true, that I wasn’t thinking of what you…”

“I know,” interrupted Arthur hastily, “now we need to make some sort of torch so that we can keep moving, we want to get a lot further away from the village before daybreak.”

That seemed to distract Merlin for the moment and he frowned, “Can’t we use the loincloths? Wrap one tightly around a branch?”

“If you want burning pieces of cloth falling on your head within a few minutes, then that’s an excellent plan,” said Arthur sweetly, reaching across the distance between them to pat Merlin patronisingly on the head.

Arthur was pleased to see the tension break from Merlin’s body as he looked at Arthur with a startled affrontedness that was almost comical, no amend that, it was comical, Arthur burst into a delighted laugh. 

After a moment Merlin laughed too. “Are you sure I was definitely handfasted to you, because you seem like a bit of an ass.” 

“You seemed to like it,“ said Arthur smiling. He wanted to ask Merlin if he was going to put his handfasting ring back on, but shied away from the possibility that Merlin might be reluctant, instead he roughly changed the subject, “you should use some of water from the pouch to wash the blood from your face and chest, you look a nightmare.”

Merlin’s eyes widened, “Condescending AND insulting, you’re right, who could resist that?”

Arthur smirked, “You couldn’t.”

Merlin turned away to find the water pouch, shaking his head in disbelief, “My brain’s obviously been damaged in more ways than one, as I’m finding your whole bullish bravado charming rather than stupid.”

A foolish grin spread across Arthur’s face, “Really? Charming?”

“Like I said, I’m obviously not well,” sighed Merlin, his back was turned but Arthur could hear the smile in his voice.


	16. Chapter 16

Merlin watched Arthur as he circled the firelight’s periphery; he would stop by a tree, examine it, use his knife to carve a shallow slash into the trunk, then press his fingers to the cut and rub the sap between his fingertips. The night was passing and they should be making a torch and getting on their way, Merlin crouched restlessly by the fire feeding it with small twigs and obstinately resistant to asking the obvious question, but after the sixth tree he could restrain himself no longer and the words burst out of him, “WHAT are you doing?” 

Arthur looked round at him, he’d been so absorbed that he seemed almost startled to find Merlin watching him. “I’m looking for a tree.”

“You’re definitely in luck here.”

Arthur sucked a hissing breath in between his teeth before replying with exaggerated patience, “A particular type of tree.”

Merlin smirked, “Can I help?”

“Well, there’s always a first time. See if you can get through the bark of any of these with the flint.”

Merlin took the flint across to one of the trees and began sawing at the trunk. The flint didn’t seem to be making much of an impression, he wondered if Arthur had just said this to give him something to occupy himself. “And what am I looking for?”

“Anything a bit similar to pine sap, something that will burn.”

“I wouldn’t know it if I found it.”

“Just call me over, this sort of thing was never your strong suit, you tended to leave it to me.”

“What was my strong suit?”

“Not a lot!”

Merlin wasn’t sure how to take that, Arthur’s tone was light, but was he serious? Perhaps he really had been a liability, he tried to probe his thoughts in the same way you might delicately probe a bruise…he didn’t FEEL stupid, but then, would he even know if he was? Did stupid people know they weren’t very bright? Certainly he didn’t seem to be competent at anything, Chimalli had even had to show him how to use the soaproot to wash. He didn’t know if that was just his memory loss, or whether this was his natural state. Perhaps magic had been his only skill, and now he couldn’t even do that. 

“You’re very quiet.”

So he wasn’t only stupid but used to chatter inanely as well. “I’m fine.”

Merlin wondered how equal their relationship was, now that he thought about it, Merlin realised that he seemed to fall far too easily into taking Arthur’s directions. A couple of times he’d thought he’d seen deep feeling in Arthur’s eyes but then people could get very attached to their hounds.

“Found it!” exclaimed Arthur, “You can stop.” 

Merlin stepped back from his own tree, he’d made a useless groove in the bark but no more. He turned to see Arthur already breaking a small branch from the tree he’d found.

Arthur went back to the guttering fire and fed into it a twig that he’d snapped from the side of the branch, he was rewarded by the fire springing immediately back to life with a strong yellow flame. “Yes, this will do.” He cut the other stray twigs from the sides of the branch and then used his knife to widen the splits at the end of the branch where he’d broken it from the tree, spreading the wood apart like the frayed end of a cord and then forcing any stray chips of wood into the cracks to hold them open. “It makes it burn better.”

Merlin nodded. Even weakened from his captivity Arthur was so…capable. 

The makeshift torch did indeed burn well, Arthur lifted it up to illuminate the ground around them and gestured at the three leather bags and the water pouch. “Get the bags then we can be off.”

He felt like a hunting dog being ordered to fetch. “You want me to carry the bags while you lead?”

Arthur frowned. “Yes?”

“Why am I carrying the bags?”

Arthur cocked his head to one side as though Merlin were setting him some sort of puzzle that he didn’t quite understand. “Because,” he answered slowly, “at the moment you’re in better shape than I am. Would you rather lead with the torch?” 

It did make sense, maybe this just confirmed that Merlin was a bit of an idiot. He shook his head, hastily moving to grab their baggage.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Then, when Arthur still hesitated. “Let’s go.”

They made far better time through the jungle now that they had light, it had been worth taking the time to make the torch. Unfortunately the villagers would make even better time in daylight, so Merlin wondered how much they were achieving, perhaps just putting off the inevitable by a few hours. 

They walked in silence for a long time, ahead of him Arthur was a shadowy shape limned in gold by the torch; giant leaves the size of shields shivered and gleamed around him in the dancing light as he pushed through them. The jungle pressed down around them like an endless sea wanting to snuff out their tiny bubble of light, Merlin felt the irrational, suffocating fear that at any moment it might crash down and wipe them away. They walked on until the sound of the rustling leaves and the noisy rasping of the night insects became too claustrophobic to bear. “How did we meet?” blurted Merlin suddenly.

“What?” 

Arthur’s voice seemed to push back the terror of the jungle and made his heart beat a little more calmly. “I asked how we met.”

“In Camelot,” Arthur paused for Merlin to say something, but the name meant nothing to him and he wasn’t sure what Arthur was expecting. After a moment Arthur continued, “You were passing through the courtyard and I…I wasn’t having one of my better moments and you pointed it out to me.”

“What does that even mean?”

“There was some horseplay going on which, from the outside, I admit could have looked a bit like bullying. You asked me to stop.”

Merlin straightened his shoulders, he liked the idea of himself stepping in as protector of the weak, it at least seemed slightly better than being a bit thick. “And you stopped?”

Arthur coughed, “Not exactly, and I picked a fight with you the next day.”

“Who won?”

“I did.”

“But I thought my magic was meant to be quite strong? Or were we having some sort of duel with swords or something?”

Arthur snorted with amusement. “You wouldn’t have stood a chance against me with a sword, but no, it was a rough and tumble in the market. I finally beat you with a broom.”

Merlin felt a little bit of his self-worth dribble away, it sounded humiliating. “I’ve powerful magic and you beat me with a broom!”

Arthur stopped and turned to face him. “It’s not something I can explain quickly and easily, you weren’t able to use your magic openly so you did what you could. And it wouldn’t have been wise for you to beat me anyway.”

Merlin felt his hackles rise. “Why not?”

“We can’t talk about this here, there’s too much to explain, too much you can’t remember.” Arthur turned away and began walking again.

It was galling to be dismissed like that. “Well just give me the potted version then.”

“Once we get a chance to make camp.”

Merlin refused to be hushed like a child. “We can talk while we’re walking, it doesn’t have to slow us down.”

“I don’t need this at the moment, Merlin. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but not when we’re fighting our way through a jungle by torchlight.”

Arthur was already several steps away and Merlin had no choice but to trail after him unless he wanted to be left behind in the darkness. “You seemed to be able to talk easily enough just now. ”

“I’ll talk about something else with you, do you want to hear about the time we spent in Venice? You made a bet against some young man with more money than sense that you could swim across the lagoon…”

“Did I win the bet, or is it only you I have to lose to?”

“Of course you don’t have to lose to me,” Arthur’s temper seemed to be fraying, “that was a long time ago and things were different.”

“It can’t have been that long ago, how old are you, twenty eight? Come to that, how old am I?”

“When we make camp.”

“Are you used to me doing everything you say then?”

“Gods! Occasionally would be a fine thing.”

“If you just tell me…”

“I’m not going to rise to this, Merlin, so give it up.” 

Arthur’s teeth actually made an audible click then as his jaw snapped shut. Yet surely Merlin had a right to hear about who he was. Why was it up to Arthur to drip feed him what he thought he was ready to hear. “Alright, I’ll wait to hear more, but at least tell me about that fight, I don’t understand how it could have been a wise thing to let you win?”

“Fine!” Arthur stopped and turned. “I was a prince and you were a peasant, a peasant doesn’t beat a prince unless he wants to end up in a dungeon or worse.”

Merlin regarded him sceptically “So you were a prince, and I was a peasant…we had a fight and then we handfasted.”

Arthur used the hand not holding the torch to wearily massage his forehead. “I realise it sounds unlikely…”

“What it _sounds_ like is a bedtime story for children.”

“It seems absurd when you say it like that, but it didn’t happen straight away, there were years for our feelings to grow. As my servant you were around me all the time and…”

“So I went from being a random peasant you decided to pick a fight with, a fight you knew I couldn’t win, to becoming your servant, this just gets better and better.”

“I don’t know why you’re trying to twist this, you…you enjoyed being my manservant, even before our feelings grew.” Arthur looked confused and upset.

Merlin felt the same way, but he found he couldn’t let the subject drop, perhaps they were both too tired and too on edge. “I enjoyed it,” repeated Merlin flatly, “were you a good master then?”

“This is why I wanted to discuss this properly sitting down in a camp, not in misunderstood half-truths while trying to force our way through a jungle,” snapped Arthur, “no, I wasn’t a particularly good master, especially not at the beginning. But then you were a lousy servant too.”

For some reason that stung, Merlin’s back stiffened, he didn’t think he had any ambition at all to be a good servant, but to be so blatantly told that he did it badly. “Well I’m sorry if I fell below your expectations.”

Arthur stepped closer, and Merlin was baffled by Arthur’s expression, which was inexplicably fond and quite at odds with the sharp words they’d been having. “Since the moment we met you’ve been confounding my expectations. You’re not just a servant, or a peasant, or a sorcerer, or an architect, or a councillor, or a doctor, or a dragonlord, or a hundred other things, you’re the only person I want to spent eternity with.”

Merlin looked down at Arthur’s left hand which was stretching tentatively to cup his face, and chuckled as he lent into it and the palm settled warmly against his cheekbone. “Well, maybe not as long as that.”

“You’ll be surprised,” muttered Arthur, and then backpedaled at Merlin’s sharply interested look, “no, I’m really not explaining that now.”

“So…I’m not…a bit stupid then?” asked Merlin cautiously.

“What?” Arthur looked far more annoyed than he had so far. “What on Earth makes you ask that, of course you’re not stupid, you idiot! You read Latin and Greek and speak half a dozen languages, you can design weapons of war and create medicines…what on Earth makes you think you might be stupid?”

Merlin winced uncomfortably, “I can’t remember what I can do…at the moment it doesn’t seem as though I know anything. You tell me what to do and I seem to just do it…it was making me feel uncomfortable.”

Arthur’s hand slid behind Merlin’s neck and drew him close so that their foreheads were touching. “Believe me, you’ve never blindly obeyed me, and I wouldn’t want you to. We tend to bow to each other’s expertise in different areas, just because it makes sense, perhaps that’s what you’re responding to. I know more about tracking and hunting, but I’d immediately defer to you if we were dealing with someone injured.”

“You haven’t kissed me yet.”

The statement seemed to blindside Arthur and he blinked. “I already told you I’d never touch you unless you wanted me to.”

Merlin licked his lips. “And if I wanted you to?”

“You know I want that, but…”

“Please?”

Arthur smiled, and it seemed to illuminate his whole face, making his eyes twinkle in the torchlight. “As you command.” Arthur tilted his head to slot their lips together and Merlin felt dry lips press like rose petals in a soft whisper against his own. It was infinitely tender and held a wealth of promise. After a chaste kiss Arthur began to draw back and Merlin whimpered and reached up to twist his fingers into Arthur’s hair, holding him in place; his hair felt grainy and dirty from his days tied up in the village square, but there was something about it that made Merlin’s knees suddenly weaken. He parted his lips and felt Arthur do the same, Arthur’s warm breath curled into his mouth and whispered across the surface of his tongue. His tongue quested forwards and met Arthur’s, the warm, wet muscles twined and danced and relearned the shape of each other. He had wondered if the kiss would feel familiar, and perhaps there was a faint echo of something he knew, but mostly it felt new and stimulating in its strangeness. 

Arthur’s embracing arm was a strong warm bar across his shoulder blades and he could feel the torchlight warming his closed eyelids. He felt as though he could stay like this forever. He felt Arthur pulling back and groaned and tightened his grip, but Arthur firmly pushed him back.

Merlin’s eyes flickered open, only half aware of where he was, his only consolation was that Arthur looked similarly wrecked. 

“We have to move,” said Arthur, his lips flushed and full, “we don’t have long till morning, we have to get as much head start as we can.”

Merlin nodded and smiled, “Lead on, I’m following.”


	17. Chapter 17

Dawn took a while to be noticeable beneath the tree canopy, Merlin didn’t even notice it was upon them until he suddenly realised that there was enough light filtering down to be able to see the sweat trickling between Arthur’s shoulder blades. “The sun’s up,” he pointed out unnecessarily.

“They’ll have started after us an hour ago.”

“How can you tell?”

“It’s what I would have done.”

Despite the mounting warmth of the jungle Merlin felt gooseflesh rise on his arms. “Do you think we can outrun them?” 

Arthur stopped and carefully extinguished the remains of the torch against the ground before throwing it away into the undergrowth. “No,” he replied finally. 

“What?” His voice came out higher than he expected and he coughed to lower it before continuing, “You can outrun anyone.”

Arthur looked exhausted, his hollow cheeks were grimy and the stubble of the past couple of days had now turned into the beginnings of a beard that straggled over the hard lines of his jaw. His lips curled up into a crooked smile, “How do you remember that?”

Merlin closed his eyes and he could see Arthur coming to a halt with his bare chest heaving and his hair bleached white-gold by the sun. Behind him other runners were just finishing the sprint. Olive trees were a chalky-green blur against an impossibly blue sky and cast spiky violet shadows across broad white steps. A crowd of people were scattered across the steps enthusiastically applauding the victor, their robes were as white as the marble they sat on. Merlin’s chest swelled with remembered pride. 

A rough hand shook his shoulder and as he blinked the jungle blurred back into focus, all the vibrant colours were gone, everything around him was murky green.

“You alright?”

“I think I remembered something.”

Arthur’s smile was warm but a little sad. “That’s good.”

“There must be something we can do.”

“There is,” said Arthur, “you’re going to take the supplies and run as fast as you can in that direction.” He nodded ahead of them. 

“And you?”

“I’m going to stay here and use the time to cut myself a long branch to use as a spear.”

“It won’t be much good against their swords and slingshots.”

Arthur laughed lightly, the tension seemed to drain from his shoulders and he was suddenly more relaxed than he had been. “You’d be surprised how good a century of practice can make you.”

“How will I know where to meet you, how will I know when to stop?”

“You don’t stop,” replied Arthur, “you keep going. I’ll catch you up. Go now!”

Merlin gazed at the dense jungle matting the way forwards, wondering how far he would get before Arthur caught up with him. He supposed Arthur’s tracking abilities were as good as his other survival skills but even so, tracking someone through that dense maze of trees and undergrowth would be a miracle even for… He drew in a sharp breath and turned his narrowed eyes on Arthur. “You aren’t going to find me are you? You’re planning to just make a stand here and die.”

“Don’t be stupid, why would I do that. Now hurry up and go, you’re holding me up,” snapped Arthur. 

Merlin crossed his arms, his angry stance somewhat undermined by the three bags and one water pouch that he was carrying and which he had to uncross his arms to push back up when the straps started slithering off his shoulders. “Because apparently you’re some sort of noble, self-sacrificing prat and if you’d told me you were going to commit suicide then we could have saved all that trouble escaping from the village.” 

“It’s not suicide…” began Arthur fiercely, then paused, and amended, “alright, maybe in a way, but it’ll give you time and perhaps if you have long enough your memory might…” 

“If you think I’m the sort of person who would leave you here to die,” Merlin hesitated uncertainly, “well perhaps I was that sort of person, but I’m not now.”

Arthur stepped closer and the constant earthy odour of the surrounding vegetation was suddenly overlaid with the musky tang of his sweat, it was pungent but not unpleasant and Merlin opened his lips eagerly as Arthur leaned forward to kiss him, his mouth was warm and sensual on Merlin’s and even the sourness of both their breaths couldn’t mar the sweetness of the kiss. When it ended Arthur drew back and smiled. “And no, you were never the sort of person to leave anyone else in trouble, least of all me, but just this once I need you to run.”

Merlin snorted, “ _Just this once_ is all it would take. No, we sink or swim together. If we can’t outrun them, can we hide from them?”

“I don’t see how, they must know this area of the jungle like the back of their hands.”

“Can’t run, can’t hide, and there are too many of them to fight.”

Arthur spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. “When you still had your magic we might have had a chance, but now…”

“We need my magic,” growled Merlin in frustration, “how did I lose it, how did I lose my memory?”

“A party of warriors attacked me, I think they were probably some of the Jaguar warriors from Aztla that Chimalli spoke about. I managed to get away but later we found one of them mortally wounded and you put him out of his misery using your magic.” At Merlin’s wince Arthur added sternly, “It was a mercy killing, it would have been wicked to leave him dying in agony alone. But as soon as you did it something seemed to sense what you’d done and mentally attacked you, you cried out and then keeled over like a sheep in a slaughterhouse.”

“’A sheep in a slaughterhouse’?”

Arthur shrugged, “Do you prefer ‘an old maid in a male bawdy house.’?”

Merlin looked at him. “Not terribly. But you have a colourful turn of phrase.”

“Years of travelling.”

“When I get my memory back I’m sure I’ll be able to think of colourful things to compare you to.”

“No doubt.”

Merlin stared at him for a second, noticing the twitching of his lips as he fought not to smile, it made him look younger than his years and slightly boyish, Merlin felt a sudden rush of affection for him that caught him by surprise. “Anyway,” he said, trying to get the discussion back on track, “if I lost my memory that way, perhaps I can get it back the same way.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch, and you were at death’s door afterwards, we can’t risk it.”

“I think we can risk anything at this point.”

“Even if there _was_ an Aztla warrior in the vicinity are you prepared to kill him in cold blood because I don’t think…” Arthur’s eyes widened and he clapped both hands onto Merlin’s shoulders. “You’re a genius!” Merlin buckled under the force of the blow added to the weight of the bags he was carrying and Arthur had to grab him under the arms to keep him upright. “Sorry, Merlin! But that’s it!”

“What?”

“We don’t need to fight the villagers, they’re at war with Aztla aren’t they, we just need to get some of their warriors to fight them for us.”

Merlin felt confused and this time he didn’t think it was anything to do with his memory loss. “But didn’t you say Aztla warriors tried to kill you?”

“This isn’t the time to hold a grudge, Merlin,” said Arthur briskly. “We need to build a fire, as large and as smoky as possible, something that will draw them here.”


	18. Chapter 18

They built the fire beside the next fallen tree that they came to and the gap in the treetops allowed the smoke to rise unhindered into the bright blue sky.

“Don’t suppose we can run now and leave them to it?” Merlin threw his armful of fallen leaves onto the blaze and was was rewarded with a renewed crackling and a belch of grey smoke. 

“If we leave, then neither the villagers nor the Atzla warriors have any reason to linger by the fire, so there’s a good chance they’ll miss encountering each other. Whoever arrives here first, we need to keep here, until the other side turns up. I’ll sharpen a couple of branches into basic spears, and if we break off more branches and build them up in a primitive wall between those two trees there, then we can make a stand behind it, all that thorny undergrowth there will be at our backs and should stop them coming at us that way…”

“A couple of sharpened sticks against swords and slingshots?”

“The villagers want you unharmed, so we should be able to engage them in some sort of negotiation for at least a little while. And the Jaguar Warriors seemed to want to capture me rather than kill me a few days back, so hopefully they’ll be holding back from a full-on attack if they arrive first.” Arthur shrugged and met his eyes with grim resignation, “It’s not a great plan, it’s not even a good plan, but I’ve got nothing else.”

“Then we’ll make it work,” said Merlin decisively. “I’ll start building the wall while you…” he paused when he realised Arthur was staring at him intently, “What?” 

“Why do you have this sort of faith in me when you barely remember me?”

Merlin saw Arthur anew for a moment, bare chested and grimy, weary from the trek and days of privation, but refusing to give up until he’d done the absolute last that he could to try and see Merlin safe. He’d seen flashes of humour in the last few days, and kindness, and a bravery that awed him. One thing still nagged at him though, “A memory’s come back to me,” at Arthur’s hopeful expression he added hastily, “not a good one; it’s just a fragment, but there’s a beautiful woman, with long dark hair, she’s at some sort of feast…and she dies…her throat is…” He tailed off.

Arthur looked at the ground and exhaled a long slow breath. For a moment Merlin thought he wasn’t going to respond at all, but then he looked up and met Merlin’s gaze steadily. “So that’s what that comment about ‘murdering women’ was about earlier. You’re remembering Morgana, my half sister.”

His half sister! It made the horror of her death even more incomprehensible. Merlin was almost afraid to ask, but forced the words out. “Did you…?”

Arthur shook his head. “Though by then I would have.” Arthur didn’t seem to notice that his right hand had drifted up to scratch at the thin silver scar crossing just beneath his Adam’s apple. “One of the mercenaries she hired cut my throat,“ he saw the whitening of Merlin’s features and caught up his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “I would have died, but you did the only thing you could to save me, which was transfer the wound to her.”

“ _I_ killed her?” Merlin hadn’t been expecting that and felt as though he’d been hit with a hammer. No wonder it had been one of the memories that forced its way to the surface. 

“It was that or watch me die. And she’d attacked me. You chose me over her.”

Merlin turned the fact over in his mind, he’d killed someone, traded someone else’s life for Arthur’s. He looked at the man in front of him, he didn’t remember their past together, but after the last few days he knew that if the choice was put in front of him again he would have to choose the same way. He had the unsettling thought that even if it wasn’t completely justified he might STILL choose Arthur’s life over anyone else’s. There was some deep lodestone within him that seemed to veer towards Arthur as though he were the centre of his universe. He didn’t know when exactly the idea of going back to the village or travelling on without him had become unthinkable, but it had happened. 

He was aware of Arthur’s eyes on him as he went over to his bag and rummaged through it, he found what he was looking for and then walked back to come to a stop in front of Arthur. “Hopefully we’ll get through this,” he made a vague gesture encompassing the smoking fire and the jungle clearing, “but even if I never manage to get back my memories, I’d like to build my future with you.” He turned his right hand palm up and unclenched it to reveal the pendant and the handfasting ring. 

Arthur’s fingers were trembling slightly as they took the ring from Merlin’s palm. “Are you sure?”

“Well, I’m banking on the fact that we’ll probably both be dead by nightfall, so you won’t have a chance to get on my nerves too much,” grinned Merlin.

Arthur’s fingers tightened on the ring and he threw back his head and gave a huge bark of laughter, he was still smiling as he took Merlin’s left hand and slid the ring into place on his third finger. Arthur took the necklace and eased the chain over Merlin’s head so that the silver pendant was sitting where it belonged against his breastbone. “Now we’ve settled that for the next two hundred years we’d better start getting ready for our visitors.”

“About that two hundred years comment…” 

“We can talk while we’re working, start collecting branches for that wall and you can ask me anything you need to know.”

The rest of the morning was spent creating two sturdy thrusting spears from sharpened branches and assembling a low wall of interlaced branches that they could take shelter behind. Merlin quizzed Arthur about their past and learned of their journey to a slightly different universe, their immortality and Camelot. When they’d finally done as much as they could to physically prepare themselves for the battle ahead, they sat down next to each other, with their backs against the wall of branches and a spear to either side of them. Merlin thought the feeling of safety it gave him was no doubt horribly misplaced, but the thorny bushes encircling the other three sides of them made it feel as though they were being protected by the jungle.

“I’d been thinking how wrong it was that Chimalli and Chalchiuhtlicue were lying to the villagers and setting themselves up as gods, and I’d pretended to be something I wasn’t for years.” 

“You didn’t _want_ to deceive anyone,” said Arthur, “whereas they’re doing it in order to get power for themselves.”

Merlin shifted around into a kneeling position so that he could look over the wall, “Do you think they’ll be here soon?”

He yelped as Arthur tugged him downwards just before a slingshot stone whistled through the air where his head had been a second before. 

“I think that answers your question.” 

“Come out now and we won’t hurt you.”

“That’s not Chimalli,” hissed Merlin.

Arthur risked a glance above the wall, He ducked down again as stones hurtled through the air towards him and thudded and cracked into the thorn bushes beyond them. “Three Jaguar warriors ahead of us, but there are probably more trying to circle around behind us. Keep the ones in front talking.” He grabbed one of the spears and crawled across the narrow space to the thorn bushes. 

Merlin peered through the gaps between the branches, the three warriors were standing near the smoking fire. He wondered whether bravado made them stand out in the open, or whether they rightly guessed that their opponents didn’t have anything much to oppose them. They were handsome enough, but with an arrogant cast to their expressions that didn’t give Merlin much hope for mercy. The tunics and leggings that hugged their muscular bodies were made from tawny, black-spotted pelts that looked similar to the fur of the tame cheetahs that he’d seen in Africa, albeit more silky and a richer, darker gold. And judging by the grinning, sharp-toothed skull that adorned each wooden helmet the animals must have been easily twice the size of a cheetah. He assumed the skins and skulls must be from the Jaguar creature that the warriors were named after. Hooked over their left arms were round shields painted with bright geometric patterns, one wielded a sling in his right, but the other two had drawn their long wooden swords edged with lethal obsidian chips.

He looked back at Arthur but he was concentrating on carefully sliding his spear through the mesh of thorns in front of him.

“If we come out, what will you do with us?” called Merlin, his gaze still on Arthur.

“You’ll come with us to Aztla.”

“And what happens to us there?”

Arthur suddenly stabbed forwards with the spear and there was a yelp of surprise from the far side of the mass of thorns. Arthur drew back the spear with a grin of satisfaction and Merlin watched him go still again as he listened intently for further movement like a cat waiting by a mouse-hole.

Merlin turned to look through the branch mesh again, the three jaguar warriors had tensed as they heard the cry and one of them seemed about to speak when a stone hissed out of the jungle and caught him a sound thwack on the upper arm. 

A voice shouted from the jungle, “The two prisoners are ours, withdraw.”

Arthur’s gaze snapped to Merlin’s and Merlin nodded. Chimalli and the villagers had arrived.


	19. Chapter 19

Rather than running for cover the jaguar warrior who had been hit by the stone took a step forwards. “Chimalli? Has the witch let you out alone? We’ve no quarrel with you, return to Atzla with us, Tezcatlipoca will welcome you back.”

“I won’t abandon Chalchiuhtlicue.”

“Though you were quick enough to abandon my sister,” snapped the jaguar, “Xochitl refuses to take another husband.”

Chimalli broke cover and walked into the clearing; with almost silent footfalls the villagers emerged like phantoms from the trees nearby to stand at his back, their hands bristled with swords and spears. “What are you talking about. Merlin’s over there; one of the two men you want to take prisoner.”

“Merlin?” The jaguar threw a confused glance at the wall of branches they were hiding behind, “Who’s Merlin?”

“Is this some kind of charm you’re trying to cast, Patli? Merlin’s been my partner for years. You don’t even have a sister.”

Patli looked in dismay at his companions. 

One of them shrugged apologetically, “The witch has got into his head.”

Chimalli scowled, “Chalchiuhtlicue wants Merlin back, give him to us and you can take the other prisoner.”

“What is this obsession with you?” hissed Arthur in annoyance, “What am I? Chicken giblets?”

“Maybe you can be favourite prisoner next time,” said Merlin dryly.

Arthur snorted.

Returning his attention to the clearing Merlin estimated that if there were five jaguar warriors in total, two in the clearing with Patli and two on the far side of the thorny undergrowth near Arthur, then the villagers must outnumber the warriors about eight to one. He searched Patli’s face for anxiety but couldn’t detect any.

“Both prisoners are ours,” said Patli, “you know there aren’t enough of you to stop us.”

Merlin and Arthur shared a look, Arthur and his knights had been a superb fighting force, but even they wouldn’t have liked those odds against them. What made the jaguars so confident?

The villagers looked ill at ease, but Chimalli glanced back at them and lifted his wood and obsidian sword before shifting into a fighting stance, “Attack.” 

To their credit, the villagers were brave, they all surged forwards and shattered the peace with a discordant medley of battle cries. The three jaguars met the charge with smooth movements that made the obsidian chips in their weapons glitter like black ice. Swords clashed against each other with a noisy clatter of wood and the crack of stone hitting stone. The swords were sharp and powerful enough that they were able to cut straight through the jabbing wooden spears of villagers. Splashes of red sprayed from the battle but none of it was from the jaguars. The villagers didn’t seem to be getting killed, none of it was the gushing scarlet fountain of arterial blood and if anything the warriors seemed to be going out of their way to knock the villagers unconscious with the flat, wooden face of the sword. 

The two jaguars who had been in the undergrowth stormed out to help their companions and as soon as he saw them Arthur snapped, “Now!” and Merlin helped him to rip apart the wooden branches so they could clamber over the remnants and into the clearing. 

Several of the villagers saw them and ran to block their escape and Merlin marvelled at the way the crudely constructed spear whirled in Arthur’s hands, now the pointed end thrusting at a villager to make him stumble backwards, now the haft end used to crack an attacker solidly round the head and send him to the ground. Arthur’s feet darted forwards and back in a complicated dance that seemed to move his body almost magically out of the way of an attack. 

But he only had a few brief moments to appreciate Arthur’s skill before he found himself beset as well. He had hoped that some muscle memory from his unremembered past would kick in and that he would find himself as graceful as Arthur, but it didn’t happen. He was better with the spear than he ever expected to be, but his fighting style consisted of jabbing furiously at the nearest opponent and using the spear shaft to desperately bat aside attacks where he could. Slowly they were managing to edge backwards, step by hard-won step, towards the tree line. Merlin started to feel the glimmerings of hope flickering in his chest; if they made it into the trees surely they would have hours before either the villagers or the jaguars were in a position to start after them, if indeed they even bothered chasing them down after the carnage of the battle.

But then he saw that Patli and another of the jaguar warriors had also noticed their escape attempt and were making their way towards them through the throng, effortlessly striking down the villagers in their way like so many annoying mosquitoes. Merlin saw Chimalli turn and meet his eyes across the battlefield, his mouth opening in a cry of warning that Merlin couldn’t hear above the shouts and crashing of swords. Chimalli broke from his current fight, allowing a villager to step into his place, and began to push his way towards them.

“Arthur, we need to get out of here.”

“Thanks for…” Arthur swung his spear and caught one of the villagers attacking him a thwack across the wrist that made him drop his sword, “…that helpful suggestion, I never would have…” he caught another villager an eye-watering blow to the groin with the spear haft, “…thought of that. It’s so lucky you’re here.”

“No need to be sarcastic.” Merlin caught a villager a lucky hit with the end of his spear that sent him sprawling and Arthur rewarded him with a grin full of pride that made him feel ten feet tall and almost invulnerable for approximately five seconds until another villager managed to catch him a painful blow to the arm and brought him back to earth. “There are two jaguars heading this way, and I think…” Merlin knocked away a second strike at his arm and caught the villager a crack around the head that was more luck than judgment, “…they’re going to be more of a challenge.”

“I’ve seen them,” said Arthur grimly, he threw a glance behind them, “I’ll try to hold them off, and you make for the trees.”

Merlin grinned at him, “Nah, if I wasn’t here you’d get bored.”

“Yes,” Arthur used his spear to impale one villager through the thigh, then ripped it out and backwards to thump another in the stomach, “I can see how you’d think that.”

Patli and the other warrior had reached them now, Arthur moved in front of Merlin to try to protect him from the two jaguars as much as possible while Merlin held the villagers off from attacking Arthur from behind. The jaguar warriors were nothing like the villagers, they moved with the fluidity and speed of striking cobras. Merlin heard Arthur’s breathing begin coming in heavy gasps as he had to throw everything he had into just holding them back. His spear was a blur of movement and the jaguars obviously weren’t used to fighting anyone of his calibre as Merlin noticed Patli’s expression turn to startled surprise as Arthur managed to land a vicious blow on him.

Distracted for a moment by his concern for Arthur, Merlin didn’t see the villager’s sword coming towards him until it ripped a slice through his knee-high breeches and raked the flesh of his outer thigh beneath. He gave a sharp yelp as the blood soaked rapidly into the faded green cloth then heard a cry of anger and realised that Chimalli had reached him and was pulling the villager away from him before he could land another blow. 

“Merlin?” Arthur couldn’t afford to tear his eyes from the jaguars before him, but his voice was frantic.

“I’m fine, it’s nothing.” Merlin knocked another sword away from him before it could strike home. 

Chimalli was trying to order the villagers to stop attacking him, but they were too caught up in the frenzy of battle to hear and comprehend. When another blow came close to sinking home, Chimalli launched himself across the gap between them and clamped his hand onto Merlin’s forehead. Merlin didn’t have a chance to wonder what he was trying to do, before he felt a crippling pain ripple through his skull. It felt as though his brain was being ripped apart. Everything went black and the sounds of battle dimmed, from far away he heard someone screaming, and then realised it was himself. He mustn’t distract Arthur, he snapped his mouth shut, biting his tongue and feeling his mouth fill with blood.

He felt something snapping and could almost have sworn that he heard an audible crack as Chimalli ripped down the walls inside his mind. His magic surged out in a boiling wave, scalding his mind and bringing all his memories gushing with it. Even as the magic scoured his body, burning along every nerve as it tried to find an outlet, his main thoughts were not of the agony but of Arthur. How could he have forgotten Arthur? The pain was worth it to get his memories back. A thousand images burst in his brain like bubbles in boiling water, and central to almost all of them was Arthur: Arthur laughing, angry, sleeping, Arthur holding him…

Merlin managed to open his eyes and realised that he was on his knees, the ground was warm and black and wisps of grey smoke were coming from it. He didn’t understand why the earth looked burnt, but he hastily started to push himself to his feet, hoping that Arthur hadn’t been hopelessly distracted by his scream. The battles still raged in the clearing, but for a space of about twenty feet all around him the grass was burned away and the villagers who had encircled him had backed away nursing vicious red burns to their arms and legs. 

Arthur! Arthur had been right next to him, Merlin prayed to all the Gods he knew that he hadn’t hurt him. He couldn’t breathe as he frantically looked for him, but then gasped in relief as he saw him held between Patli and the other jaguar warrior. He’d been disarmed, and they were holding his arms behind his back, but he was unburnt and uninjured. 

“Arthur!”

Arthur sagged in the warrior’s grasp for a moment, Merlin wondered what the fire had looked like, as relief that Merlin was alright was obviously hitting him hard. Then he suddenly tried to jerk away from the jaguars, his eyes wide. “Don’t! Leave him! Merlin!” 

There was no time now to wonder what he meant, Merlin raised a hand to blast the jaguar warriors away from him. But before he could release his magic he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and heard the crack of wood hitting the back of his skull. He had a brief glimpse of the blackened earth rushing towards him before he slipped into unconsciousness.


	20. Chapter 20

Merlin opened his eyes a crack to see Arthur sitting cross-legged on the floor beside him. Flickering torches illuminated stone walls and scented the air with the sweetness of pine resin. “Watching me sleep could be regarded as odd.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I just happened to be facing this direction.”

“For hours?”

Arthur looked drawn, but his lips twitched into a smile. “Possibly.”

Merlin groaned as he pushed himself up into a sitting position on the reed mat; he massaged his forehead.

“Headache?”

“I think all of me aches.” Through the tear in his knee-length breeches he could see that the cut on his thigh had been neatly bandaged. As he pulled up his trouser leg to see it more clearly he realised that his wrists were tightly encircled by metal rings. “Are these bracelets or manacles?”

“Manacles,” said Arthur, “though it’s the first time I’ve seen solid gold ones.”

He twisted his wrists to examine the complicated engraving, the workmanship was undeniably beautiful, but there was something about the dense decoration, the maze like lines that resolved themselves here and there into snarling faces, that made him shudder. “So why aren’t you wearing them as well?”

“From what I overheard, I think they’re to stop you using your magic, are they working?”

Merlin tried to summon a flame into his right hand; for a moment nothing happened but then a gout of blue fire gushed upwards from his palm.

Arthur flinched backwards, then relaxed as the flame quickly guttered out. “Sorry, at the moment you and fire together make me a bit jumpy.”

“You don’t need to worry, these things seem to be dampening my magic right down.” Merlin’s gaze raked over him searching for signs of injury. “You look pale are you sure you’re alright? Back at the battle I had no control over my magic at all, I could have killed you.”

“I’m fine, you singed some of the villagers, but they had it coming.” Arthur’s voice changed, becoming carefully casual. “So Chimalli took down the walls in your mind, I suppose that doesn’t mean that you remember…?”

Merlin grinned at him. “Everything!”

Arthur surged across the gap between them and Merlin fell backwards under his weight with a gasp of laughter that turned into a whoosh of expelled air as his back hit the mat. He found himself lying on his back with Arthur draped over him. Arthur propped himself up on his elbows with his face mere inches away, his expression was replete with such immeasurable fondness that it was overwhelming, and it was a long moment before Merlin could gather his thoughts together enough to try and take a breath. When he did, he realised that Arthur’s weight on his ribcage was definitely less than comfortable but he didn’t want to make him move. “You seem glad to see me.”

“Do you really remember?”

Merlin raised his fingers to run them through the messy blond fringe and move it out of Arthur’s eyes. “I even remember that you hate your hair this long.”

Arthur dipped down to kiss him, slow and sweet.

When they broke for air, Merlin lay content beneath him, revelling in the warmth of Arthur’s naked chest against his own and the muscular arms that curled protectively around his head. He smirked, “They obviously fed you more in the village than I thought.”

For a moment Arthur looked confused, then rolled his eyes, “Yourself for five minutes and you’re already back to making jokes about my weight.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Merlin shrieked as Arthur’s hands darted down to his waist and began tickling him. “Enough! Enough!” 

Fingers attacked his armpits and he jerked his arms tight to his body, he was spasming with laughter so badly that he could barely snatch breath to speak. “Stop! Please!”

“Pardon?” With the armpits now protected Arthur turned to a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ribs. “Can’t quite hear you.”

“Sorry! I said sorry!” 

Arthur rolled off him and they lay on their backs, panting and grinning.

“I’m guessing from these manacles that we’re still prisoners,” said Merlin after a moment, “so it’s ridiculous to be this happy.” 

“It’s completely absurd under these circumstances,” agreed Arthur.

Merlin spidered his fingers across the stone floor until they found Arthur’s and meshed with them. “I lost you and now I’ve gotten you back.”

Arthur rolled his head to look at him and for a while they were content to lie there, just drinking each other in. 

Finally Arthur seemed to realise that while Merlin might be lying on a bed mat, his own bare back was pressed against cold stone and he squeezed Merlin’s fingers. “There’s a sort of bath in the other room, do you want to clean up?”

“Shouldn’t we be escaping?”

Arthur rose and offered Merlin his hand to pull him to his feet. “I’m open to suggestions but the door seems to be inches thick, and this room is too high to use the window. It’s a spectacular view though, you won’t believe it.”

Intrigued, Merlin went over to the square opening and leaned on the thick stone sill to look out. He gasped.

Arthur joined him at the window. “They might be torturing, lying bastards, but they really know how to build.”

The room they were in was dizzyingly high up, and far below them sprawled a city, bigger even than the glory of Constantinople. The vast starry arc of the sky above seemed almost to be reflected in gold on the ground below, and it was a moment before Merlin realised that the golden stars were the flicker of innumerable torch-lit windows, and every window burned in the wall of its own squat stone building marking the homes of untold thousands of people. Here and there the twinkling sea of houses was interrupted by market squares, empty and unlit, like square stones in a pool. 

Canals, straight and ink-black, made a grid throughout the city, occasionally picking up the torchlight from a house nearby so that it rippled across the dark water in lines of orange fire. 

And more impressive than all of this were the four-sided stone pyramids that stood at intervals through the city and loomed over it like three small mountains, each one of them topped by a square stone tower on its summit. The sides of the pyramids weren’t smooth like the ones they’d seen in Egypt, but rose in giant steps, each step taller than a man, and the stone blocks they were made from gleamed like creamy bone in the starlight. Down the centre of each side ran an impossibly steep staircase for people to climb in order to reach the tower at the top. Though Merlin felt sick at just the idea of using it; the stairs were easily 18 feet across from side to side, but with no railings to catch onto if you missed your footing. And if you slipped there was nothing to stop you plunging down the staircase, steadily gathering speed, until you landed in a mess of broken bones at the very bottom.

He looked directly downwards from his window with a sense of dread and was horrified to see that the wall beneath his window fell sheer and straight to the edge of a platform, and below that a frighteningly steep flight of stairs descended to the ground far below. “We’re on top of one of those things!”

“You’re lucky you were carried up here unconscious. They forced the villagers up here with us,” Arthur glanced downwards thoughtfully, “I think they may be locked up on the floor below… But anyway, half way up, you know the man I speared in the leg during the battle? He must have lost a lot of blood, they bandaged him up, but he lost more walking here, well he slipped about half way up… The jaguars just stepped out of the way and watched him fall.” Arthur paused. “I suppose it was practical,” anyone else would have thought he felt nothing about the incident, his voice was so calm, but Merlin knew better, “if they’d tried to stop him he might have dragged one of them with him. So they stepped aside and just watched him fall. He was screaming all the way down,” Arthur’s eyes were unfocused, replaying the scene in his head. “near the end he was tumbling so fast that he was almost bouncing down, he was only hitting one step in five but you could hear his bones snapping every time he hit…I thought he’d stop screaming much earlier actually…”

Merlin grabbed his hand and Arthur blinked his eyes back into focus and smiled at him. “For the first time on the journey I was actually glad you were out cold.”

“Why don’t you take me into the other room and show me this bath.”

Arthur seemed relieved at the change of topic. “Sensible ideas like this are why I keep you with me.”

“But not the only reason I hope.”

“When we’re in the bath I’ll happily show you one of the other reasons.”

His love for Arthur was bubbling so close to the surface that it was easy to find a laugh for him as Arthur tugged him towards the open doorway leading to the adjoining room. Their situation terrified him, but at least he knew how to briefly distract Arthur from it and lift that dreadful haunted look from his eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

The walls of the next room were densely carved, there was a stone bench along one side bearing a pile of soap roots, several sharp flints,and some folded lengths of soft cloth, but apart from that it was empty of any furniture save a huge, square bath in the centre. Merlin had never seen the like of it before, it was a carved stone tank raised up off the floor by squat stone feet carved into the shape of serpent heads with gaping jaws. The bath was about eight feet long and the same across and was as intricately carved as the room. Steps led up to the edge, and then down into the water on the inside. Beneath the bath a slow-burning fire was glowing red within a metal cage to heat the water. 

“Ingenious!” commented Merlin, approaching it and squatting down stiffly despite his injured thigh so that he could see the construction of the fire basket. He rose and dipped his hand cautiously into the water to test the temperature, it was nicely warm and the water called to his aching body. “We could have used one of these in Camelot. I experimented with something similar using metal, but the water always got too hot. A hypocaust really would have been the way to go, but you didn’t want the castle altered too much.”

“I remember.”

“Though honestly, hot baths are worth a bit of alteration, the romans had some good ideas, and it seems mad to cling to the past for the sake of it.” Merlin peered down into the water, “Do you think it’s got a false bottom to regulate the temperature?”

Arthur’s eyes were fond.

“What?”

“Nothing,” smiled Arthur, then his expression grew serious and he made a waving motion of his hand that encompassed the entire room, “but I think this is more than just a bath, take a look at the carvings.” 

Merlin walked to the wall, the stone looked golden in the torchlight. At first he found it difficult to follow the complicated lines of the carving, they seemed to move in and out of each other like a maze…though here he could make out a foot, and here what must be a feathered headdress, and here a face… He ran his right hand delicately across the undulating surface, as though touch could help him make it out. His fingers were still wet from the water and where they passed they left a dark and gleaming trail behind them. Suddenly he pulled his fingers back, blushing.

“It caught me by surprise too.” Arthur had moved up behind him and was looking over his shoulder. 

“They’re all…”

“Yes,” said Arthur, “men and men, women and men, women and women…and in that corner over there are couplings that seem a lot more unsavoury, I moved away from that corner pretty quick.”

“So what is this, some sort of sex room?”

“Come and look at this.” 

The wall opposite the door was dominated by a carving of a square surrounded by people, on one side of the square a man was tied by one ankle to something large and round. Merlin couldn’t make out what it was. “Is that a shield?”

“That he’s dropped?” Arthur frowned, “perhaps, but I don’t know why you’d tie your shield to your ankle.”

The tied man was battling three warriors at once. They all held wooden swords with triangles carved along the edges to represent the obsidian chips. The man tied by the ankle had a sword with curly edges. 

“Don’t know what’s happening to his sword, are those meant to be flames on it?” said Arthur curiously. 

Merlin moved along the wall, to the right of the battle another fight seemed to be taking place, but this time a man with large rings around his wrists was facing off against two men, none of these men held swords but carved flames like jagged teardrops seemed to be raining onto the ringed man from the sky. “Is that some sort of duel with magic?”

“A duel’s between two people, these seem rather one-sided.”

The next section of the wall showed one of the stepped pyramids, curled beneath the pyramid was some sort of massive serpentine creature, on top of the pyramid some sort of ritual was taking place. 

Merlin leaned in close, then recoiled. “Are they cutting people’s hearts out?”

“It looks that way to me.”

“So this room, the bathing, the sex, it’s all part of some elaborate ritual before they cut our hearts out?” Merlin looked at the stone bath with a shudder. “Well we can’t use it now.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows, “I don’t see why not, I really need a hot bath and,” he grinned and sniffed dramatically, “I know you do.”

“But the ritual?”

“Do you really think they’ll call the whole thing off and let us go because we refused to have a bath?”

He had a point, and the hot water did look very inviting. “Alright, so perhaps if we just don’t have the sex.”

Arthur gave him a long look.

Merlin started shucking out of his clothes, “Alright, we’ll go along with the ritual that far then, since it can’t make any difference either way, but we’ll completely draw the line at unfair duels and having our hearts cut out.”

“Very sensible,”agreed Arthur, pulling down his breeches.

The feel of the water was just as heavenly as he’d imagined. It stung slightly when it soaked through the bandage on his thigh, but despite the gold manacles on his wrists he still seemed to be healing slightly faster than was normal.

There was a wide stone bench under the water on one side of the bath, so a person could either scoot forwards and go all the way under the water if they wanted, or move backward to sit on the bench with their head and chest comfortably above the water. He rested the soap root and flint on the side of the bath and then slipped completely under the water. When he came up Arthur was sitting on the bench behind him and had rubbed the soap root between his hands to make a lather. Arthur opened his legs and motioned with one foamy hand for Merlin to sit between them. Merlin sat on the edge of the bench,and let his body sink backwards so that his back was against Arthur’s chest. 

Arthur’s fingers began to vigorously rub the soap into his dark hair, his fingers massaging Merlin’s scalp in a way that stopped just the right side of too forceful. Arthur made him bend forwards so that he could get to his back. Then leaned him back against his chest again, his hands began stroking down Merlin’s neck and rubbing the lather into Merlin’s chest hair, practical and efficient as though he was grooming a horse. 

The hands stilled, “What are you grinning at?”

“Just enjoying it.”

Arthur made a skeptical grunt, and the movement of his hands suddenly changed; the fingers running through Merlin’s chest hair slowed and began caressing, teasingly tugging the hair up gently into soapy tufts. His hands circled ever closer to Merlin’s nipples on every pass and Merlin found himself holding his breath until one calloused forefinger brushed across a nub, sending a feeling like lightning sparking down his spine directly to his cock. The fingers moved away, relearning the lines of his ribs like he was a book that could be unlocked by touch to reveal his secrets. A low moan vibrated out of his chest as the hands moved back to his nipples, fingers gently twisting and pinching. One hand reached down to feel his hardness and stroke him, once…twice... Oh! Merlin let out a small mew of pleasure. Now this was definitely nothing like Arthur groomed a horse. 

Arthur lowered his head to press his lips to Merlin’s shoulder, between the kisses he could feel Arthur’s lips smirking against his skin every time he wrung another moan from him, but then, Merlin thought Arthur entirely deserved a little bit of smugness when he could do this so very, very well… 

Merlin gasped as the hand still on his chest moved lower, the soap making it slick and greasy even under the water. Both of Arthur’s hands moved to settle on Merlin’s hips and then slide lower. Merlin raised his arse to allow him better access and Arthur reached under him to cup his buttocks and pull him closer. An index finger pressed against his entrance and edged inside. Arthur was fully hard and Merlin could feel it rubbing against his buttocks, he wanted it inside him. Arthur pushed his finger in a little deeper and Merlin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. 

“Does it hurt?”

Merlin gasped, “It’s a little tight, but good, don’t stop.” 

“You’d think they’d have provided oil.” Arthur paused.

Merlin wriggled in frustration as Arthur’s hands suddenly left him. “What?” 

“Move off me a minute.”

“Really?”

“Stop whining,” but there was a smile in Arthur’s voice, “now turn around and kneel on the bench facing the side of the bath.”

He did so, and Arthur pushed him forwards so that his arms were crossed on the side of the bath with his head leaning on top of them. He closed his eyes. Arthur stood behind him and Merlin shivered as he felt Arthur’s gaze raking over his wet back

“Spread your legs.”

Merlin shuffled his knees apart, the movement made the warm water swirl against the sensitive skin between his legs and he released a low groan. 

Arthur moved up to press against him, he draped his warmth across Merlin’s back, and licked the water from the edge of Merlin’s ear making him laugh and shiver. His voice was a warm chuckle against the side of Merlin’s neck, “You’re so beautiful.”

Arthur backed away a little, enough that he could slide his hands down over the sharpness of Merlin’s shoulder-blades, and caress each rib as they moved down his body. Only one hand was open, Merlin felt the brush of Arthur’s knuckles against the knobbled mounds of his spine, he was holding something. Arthur’s hands reached his arse, and after a moment something pressed at him seeking entrance, it was too unyielding to be Arthur. His eyes opened, “What?”

“The soap root, tell me if it stings and we’ll quickly wash it away.”

“Oh.” Merlin let his eyes slide shut again. They’d played with objects in the past, so this wasn’t unknown territory. He remembered the end of the thick root as being about two fingers wide but thickening as it went upwards. His body protested the intrusion, but he relaxed his muscles and after another moment’s resistance he felt his body yield to the rounded end of the slippery root and it slipped inside. 

Merlin breathed heavily, there was a slight burning sensation, but that was just the feeling of being stretched. “More.”

Arthur slowly began to move the root, with each pull out and slide in it went a little further up and stretched him a little more. The gentle rubbing of the root against his inner walls was beginning to make the soap root lather up, it felt strange, and there was a slight prickling feeling, almost like the very beginning of pins and needles. It drew all his focus to that small area of his body and made him acutely aware of every slide in and out of him. He chewed on his lower lip, eyes still closed. 

“How does it feel?”

“It tingles a little, but…” Merlin thought about it, the tickling feeling was really quite interesting, “Oh, it’s nice…oh yes…it’s very nice…”

The movement of the root sped up, driving into him harder and faster, stretching him further until he was grunting with every thrust. It was wonderful, but he wanted more. He blinked his eyes open and looked behind him. “Enough! I want you.”

Arthur slid the root out of him and dropped it heedlessly into the water. He stepped forwards and Merlin felt Arthur’s length prodding at his opening and then sliding home. 

Arthur let out a gasp, “Oh, it..”

“But not painful.”

Arthur let out a groan of pleasure, “No, not painful,” His left arm curled round Merlin’s midriff, holding him tightly, while he began to thrust into him, fast and hard. His right hand took Merlin in hand stroking him in rhythm to his urgent thrusts. The warm water swilling around them made their skin more sensitive and every touch felt heightened. 

Merlin rested his head on his arms, overwhelmed at the feeling of being both used and pleasured. There was a particular sensuality in letting go and allowing Arthur to take over. Having nothing expected of him, but to revel in the feeling of ecstasy that mounted steadily in him like water coming to the boil. 

Arthur gasped and a second later he felt the flood of Arthur’s release warm his insides. It only took a few more minutes before he was coming himself and Arthur’s hand stroked him through his climax until he was too sensitive to take any more.


	22. Chapter 22

They returned to the room where Merlin had woken up only to find that someone had silently entered and left while they were in the bath and their leather bags had been dumped onto Merlin’s sleeping mat. Merlin glanced back to the stone bath that sat in plain view through the doorway. “Well, that’s creepy.”

Arthur shrugged and began rooting through the bags. “This country has been nothing but creepy since we got here. Damn! They’ve taken my knife. Everything else seems to be here though.” He threw a red tunic and brown trousers to Merlin, then followed up by vigorously chucking a pair of under-breeches that hit Merlin squarely in the face while he was fumbling to catch the flying clothes.

Merlin flailed for the under-breeches and pulled them off his face. “Very funny!”

Arthur grinned, all white teeth and sparkling eyes and Merlin felt something deep inside melt into something warm and soft. 

They were dressing when Merlin froze, his trousers stretched taut, half way up his thighs. “Why are you putting that back on?”

Arthur lowered his hands from fastening the necklace and looked down at the green feathers shimmering against his bare chest. “I like it.”

“It’s lovely, but isn’t it an insult.” 

“That’s what Chalchiuhtlicue intended, yes.”

“So why wear it?” exploded Merlin as he tugged his trousers up, “What did she call you? Quetzalcoatl? Something about a feathered serpent, I don’t quite get what it was all about but it didn’t sound flattering.”

“I discovered something over the last few days.”

Arthur’s fingers gently stroked the iridescent feathers and Merlin was pleased to see that Arthur had already donned his handfasting ring even though he had yet to slip into his shirt. Then realised with a slight jolt of surprise that his own ring was the first thing he’d put on, he hadn’t even realised that he’d done it.

“I used to think I had to live up to my father’s expectations.”

The change of subject took him aback and he blinked in surprise and waited for Arthur to continue.

A small furrow creased the skin between Arthur’s brows. “In the camp back there the villagers who guarded me would laugh at me when they took me to relieve myself, I felt humiliated.”

Anger flushed hot in Merlin’s cheeks, he hadn’t known.

Arthur was deep within his thoughts and didn’t even notice Merlin’s change of expression. “I came to realise that everyone around me can think what they want about me, expect what they want, denigrate me as they want…but NONE of them can really affect me,” Arthur thumped his chest softly with his fist, “not who I am inside. I am the only one who decides what I think about myself.” He looked up then, and met Merlin’s eyes with a small chuckle, “Well, and you of course, I trust you like my own self. But it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about me, the only thing that matters is that I’m true to myself. Does that make sense?”

He looked so resolute and brave, yet at the same time ready to bend beneath Merlin’s criticism. Merlin surged forward and put his arms around him. “It makes perfect sense, one day you will lead Albion again, and perhaps more than Albion, and you will…”

Merlin broke off as Arthur stiffened in his arms. 

“Dearest!” Arthur let out a harsh exhale and dropped within Merlin’s arms like a puppet with its strings cut. 

For a moment Merlin struggled to hold him upright, then his knees buckled and he sank with him to the floor. His magic was surging wildly within him, beating against the manacles on his wrists, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and could feel the blood draining from his face. “Arthur, what’s wrong, Arthur?”

“Merl…” Arthur’s eyes were rolling up, and his voice was slurred.

“Help!” Merlin screamed it into the empty room, hopng that it would penetrate the thick door that held them prisoner. “Help us!”


	23. Chapter 23

Merlin spared a panicked glance for the door, but when it didn’t open all his attention went back to Arthur. He felt a choking rise of fear closing down his throat and had to swallow past it. “Arthur, can you hear me?”

They’d shaved after bathing and Arthur’s cheek was smooth under his fingers and far too cool considering the warmth of the night; his eyes remained closed as he sprawled on his back across Merlin’s lap, His head pillowed by Merlin’s left arm, his breath the shallowest of whispers between his parted lips. Merlin moved his hand to Arthur’s bare chest and felt the heartbeat fluttering like a wild bird beneath his palm. “There, there, it’s alright, just breathe slowly. You’re going to be alright.” 

The manacles on his wrists prevented him from doing any major magic, but even if he hadn’t been wearing them he wouldn’t know how to help. He could enhance the properties of herbs or remedies, but pure healing magic was a rare skill and certainly not one that he’d ever manged to harness. Chalchiuhtlicue had mended Arthur’s broken arm, and was probably a master of it, if the situation had been different and she hadn’t been a lying, torturing sadist, then he would have wanted to learn from her; as it was, skills like hers were tantalisingly out of reach.

He gently rubbed Arthur’s chest, willing the rhythm of the beats to settle into something more regular. Without thinking he began rocking gently, only realising he was doing it when Arthur’s head rolled limply to one side, Merlin stilled. “Open your eyes, dearheart.” His voice came out unexpectedly hoarse.

The creak of wood on leather hinges made his head jerk up just in time to see the door closing. Someone had looked in on them and then swiftly re-closed the door. His eyes widened frantically, their captors had been there and he’d missed his chance. “No, come back! We need help!” The words rang round the stone room, but the door stayed shut.

A touch to the back of his hand made him jump and he looked down to see Arthur looking up at him. “Arthur!”

“Hey,” Arthur smiled, “did you just call me ‘dearheart’?”

Merlin forced a laugh. “You must have been hallucinating,” he tilted his head to one side and pretended to think for a moment, “I might have called you ‘lazy sod’?”

“Ah, I thought that was probably it.” Arthur grinned but it spasmed off into a wince of pain.

“Does it hurt?”

“It feels as though someone’s dumped a cartload of firewood on top of my chest,” he glanced down as though looking for bruising although there was nothing to see, then raised his left arm weakly, “and this just aches…” his voice tailed off as though he needed all his concentration to steady his breathing.

Merlin rubbed Arthur’s arm vigorously as though he could make it better through sheer strength of will. There had to be something he could do, if their captors came back perhaps he could bargain with them, but what did he have to offer that they might want?

“I’d really rather keep the skin on it.”

Startled out of his thoughts, Merlin slowed his hand, then when Arthur raised his eyebrows, stilled it completely. “I just don’t understand, you seemed fine a second ago, were you feeling unwell before you collapsed? You didn’t say…” he paused as a thought came to him, “what Chimalli said, about the spell in your heart, the trap for Tezcatlipoca…”

Arthur’s brow furrowed, “I hoped he was bluffing.”

“If he wasn’t?”

“But it’s come on a little quick, hasn’t it? Surely they’d have needed longer to gift me to Tezcatlipoca and for him to take my heart before the trap sprung?”

Merlin shrugged helplessly. “Maybe they can activate it from a distance?”

“Then why not bring me down just after we escaped?”

“I don’t _know_ , Arthur, just because I have magic doesn’t mean I’m the expert on every type of magic around the world.”

“There’s no need to get snappy.”

“I’m not, I’m just…”

“Sometimes you get very defensive about nothing.”

“I’m not getting defensive,” spluttered Merlin, “Gods! Sometimes you’re an arrogant arse.”

Arthur scrabbled to push himself up into a sitting position but Merlin’s firm hand on his shoulder kept him lying down across Merlin’s lap.

“Don’t bloody move!” snapped Merlin, “I’m not having you die and then blame it on me.”

“I’m not about to die.”

“Well,” Merlin sniffed and brushed Arthur’s fringe away from his eyes, “Good.”

Arthur managed to raise his left arm with an effort and ruffled Merlin’s hair. “Come on, help me sit up.” 

When the door opened again they were both sitting on Merlin’s sleeping mat, although Arthur’s forehead was beaded with sweat from the effort of moving. Chimalli strolled into the room and gestured to someone in the corridor who closed the door behind him. He smiled slightly when he looked at Arthur, “You called for help.”

“I didn’t,” said Arthur, his pride stung despite the situation.

“I was the one who called, but I wasn’t expecting you,” said Merlin coldly.

He’d imagined Chimalli to be a bruised captive, but his loincloth and red cloak were crisp and clean, his glossy black hair tied back in an immaculate ponytail. He’d done so much to hurt them and now it seemed that he had been captured by his enemies and wasn’t even being treated as a prisoner. Merlin was surprised by the overwhelming rage that made him want to surge to his feet and punch the smug expression from Chimalli’s face. Arthur noticed the tremble in his hand and put his own hand over Merlin’s, pressing it to the mat, whether to offer comfort or to prevent Merlin from doing anything rash, he wasn’t sure, perhaps a combination of both.

“Perhaps I should leave?” Chimalli’s voice was silken.

Merlin’s hands clenched into fists and he felt Arthur’s thumb run soothingly across the knuckles of his left hand. “We think the spell on his heart is taking effect, we need you to take it off.”

“The spell?”

“The trap for Tezcatlipoca.”

“Really?” Chimalli glided forwards, his brown eyes wide and set on Arthur, “I should check on it, I’ll need to lay my hands on your chest.”

“Do you have to?” said Merlin in distaste.

He paused, eyebrow quirked, “No need to be jealous, my sweet.”

Merlin shuddered and beside him Arthur let out an almost animal growl. “You ever touch him again and I’ll rip you apart.”

Chimalli spread his arms wide, palms up, “Whatever you wish.”

Merlin gave a terse nod of his head, and Chimalli approached Arthur and sank gracefully to one knee in front of him. There was something about his movements that reminded Merlin of a snake, something slightly too polished that Merlin didn’t remember noticing before. Laying his hands on Arthur’s chest Chimalli closed his eyes. After a long few moments he murmured, “Ah, clever. Yes, the spell is beginning to ruin your heart.”

“Can you stop it?” asked Arthur.

“Me? No, this requires healing magic. Chalchiuhtlicue…”

“Isn’t here,” snapped Arthur, “and wouldn’t help me if she was.”

Rising smoothly to his feet, Chimalli looked at Merlin and nodded towards the room with the stone bath, “I need to speak with you in the other room.” 

“Over my dead body,” Arthur hissed.

Chimalli’s mild expression didn’t change, “We won’t have long to wait.”

“Fine,” Merlin pushed himself up, ”the other room.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin pressed down on Arthur’s shoulder before he could rise, “Stay here, if he tries anything again I’ll kill him.”

“Big words when you’re wearing those.” Chimalli nodded at the manacles and led the way into the bath room.

Once in the other room, they faced each other in the far corner, out of sight of the doorway. “He can’t hear you,” said Chimalli, “you can say what you want. I’m in favour again here, you can join me, more wealth and power than you could dream of. You just need to help them against Chalchiuhtlicue.”

Merlin’s jaw dropped open, “What?”

Chimalli nodded his head towards the other room, “You don’t need to worry, he never has to know you betrayed him and he’ll be dead soon. You just need to tell them what happened in the village, how many followers she has, what powers you witnessed. They’ll let you out of here if I ask them, they’ve given me a large house, better than I had before, we can live there together.”

“You’re insane, why would I ever help you, I hate you.” 

“We were close in the village.”

Chimalli put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder but it was shaken angrily away. “Because you and Chalchiuhtlicue lied to me, tricked me, and walled away my memories.”

“Don’t you want Quetzalcoatl healed?”

“His name is Arthur,” spat Merlin, then sighed wearily and his shoulders sagged, “and I’m willing to bargain, if you can cure him.”

“Interesting, but I see that might be better accomplished by someone other than Chimalli.”

As Merlin blinked at him, trying to parse his comment, Chimalli’s face began to waver as though seen through a heat haze. For a moment Merlin wondered whether he’d had cast some spell on him to make him pass out, but then realised he didn’t feel faint. Even so Chimalli seemed to be shimmering and shifting in front of him as though seen through smoke or murky water. He seemed to be growing taller and slimmer. His skin was darkening to a rich chestnut brown, his nose growing thinner and slightly more hooked, and a thick band of dark blue paint appeared across his face at eye-level like a mask. His clothes changed too, the white loincloth morphing into black, the cloak bleeding from red into a night-sky blue. A large flat disk of iridescent shell gleamed in the centre of his chest suspended from a heavy gold chain around his neck, the shell’s surface gleamed with ripples of shiny black and dark blue. Gold earrings that could have bought half of Camelot dangled from his ears. His irises were the last to change, lightening from Chimalli’s dark brown, through pale fawn, to finally stop on an unearthly, silvery, fish-belly grey so pale that it was only slightly darker than the whites. 

Merlin gaped at him.

“Since Chimalli was seriously mistaken, and you appear to have no affection for him, there doesn’t seem any need to continue the deception. It might be better to deal with you as myself.”

“And you are?”

“Tezcatlipoca.”

Of course, “The smoking mirror.”

Tezcatlipoca inclined his head gracefully.

Chimalli had said that Tezcatlipoca could assume the shape of animals or men, but Merlin had never imagined it could be so effective. He hadn’t dreamed that it wasn’t Chimalli standing in front of him. For a moment he was dazed, but then his mind snapped back. “Can you help Arthur?”

“I cannot.” But at Merlin’s quiet, involuntary moan, Tezcatlipoca frowned, then continued, “But I can take you to one who can.”

Merlin brightened, his hope almost painful in his chest, “Will you help us then?”

“I think we can help each other.”


	24. Chapter 24

Merlin scuttled away from the stairs leading down to the plaza far below and pressed his back flat against the wall of the temple. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Torches were set into niches in the stone above him but their light would soon be unnecessary as the sky was starting to turn a rich sea-shell pink in the east. The platform they were standing on seemed an island of solidity floating in a vast ocean of fading stars. Merlin had never been as high as this unless he was on the back of Kilgharrah. The idea of venturing down the steep steps made him feel sick.

Arthur leaned against the wall beside him. “Of course you can, it’s just a stairway…a long one I grant you…but just take it one step at a time. You’ve never been scared of heights.”

“It’s not the height I’m scared of, it’s the idea of slipping and bouncing my way down to the ground, you know how clumsy I can be, especially when I’m nervous.” Merlin glanced off to one side where Tezcatlipoca was talking quietly to the six warriors that were going to accompany them. The warriors were resplendent in their gleaming furs but beneath their jaguar skull helmets they had expressions that seemed devoid of humanity, “What if one of them pushes me?”

“Why would they do that?” Arthur frowned, “You don’t trust Tezcatlipoca?”

“He was recently suggesting letting you die, so I’d say no, not really. I haven’t yet met a person in this country that I’d trust as far as I could throw them.” Merlin closed his eyes and swallowed against a wave of nausea. ”Though actually, with those stairs, even I could throw someone a damn long way.”

“It’s the only way down.”

“I know,” Merlin moaned softly.

“I don’t think these people have much patience with any sort of weakness.”

Merlin forced his eyes open but focused intently on Arthur’s face rather than his surroundings. “I don’t know what to do, I really don’t think I can step away from the wall.”

Arthur grimaced, “I shouldn’t have told you about the man who fell.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Merlin took Arthur’s hand and squeezed it, “I had to nag for years before you stopped bottling up things that were bothering you and I’m grateful every time you confide in me. I’m just sorry I’m being so cowardly…”

“You’re not being cowardly,” Arthur reprimanded him sharply, “but I don’t think they have the same views as we do. And we don’t have any other option. Unless you plan to spend the rest of your life up here?”

Merlin made himself look past Arthur at the way the platform seemed to end in thin air, he knew if he took a few steps forwards towards the edge then he’d be able to see the city sprawled out far below. Hi heart began fluttering like a moth in his chest and he suddenly couldn’t catch his breath. He felt faint, what if he came over like this half way down and wasn’t able to go up or down. He could vividly imagine himself sitting half way down the stairway, too petrified to move. How long would the warriors have patience with him before they started pushing him. His stomach heaved and he tasted vileness in his mouth.

“I don’t know how I’m going to make it down myself,” said Arthur quietly, “I think they’re planning for me to lean on one of the warriors on the way down.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m too weak to make it down on my own.” 

Merlin swallowed and straightened up slightly, his back leaving the safety of the wall, “Tezcatlipoca might still be thinking about getting rid of you; they could let you fall and claim it’s an accident.”

Arthur shrugged, “Well, it’s possible, but my chest is still painful and I can’t do it without help, and they are used to going up and down the stairs…”

“No, we’re not trusting them, I’ll help you down myself.”

Arthur pursed his lips dubiously, “But those Jaguars are phenomenally strong, and it’s going to be difficult to support my weight.”

“I’ve carried you a score of times.”

“But those steps are really steep, I really think it might be wiser…”

“If you think I can’t get you down a few steps…” Merlin slowed and fell silent, then “…Oh, you sly bastard.”

Arthur grinned, “They could let me fall…”

“Don’t push it, you’ve won.” 

Tezcatlipoca sauntered over to them, “Are you ready?” he gestured for two of the Jaguars to come forward, “They will…”

“I’m going to help Arthur down.”

Tezcatlipoca’s fish-belly eyes widened, the rising sun reflected in them making them seem pink and blood-tinged. “But…”

“I’m doing it,” said Merlin, pulling Arthur’s right arm around his shoulders. 

“Are you sure this is wise? My Jaguars are far stronger than normal men, they could carry him with ease.”

“I’m doing it,” repeated Merlin.

“Very well,” Tezcatlipoca gave a small tilt of his head that sent the Jaguar warriors spreading out in a line across the edge of the platform. The warriors walked with perfect synchronization down the first three steps, then stood waiting. “If you do slip,” he explained, “then they may have some chance of catching you.” 

Merlin swallowed, his pulse was thumping again, but Arthur was already moving forwards and he had no choice but to move with him. At least the line of warriors in front of them blocked the worst of the view. He concentrated on helping Arthur down the first few steps. Whoever had designed this staircase had done it without regard for comfort, the treads were too narrow and the risers too deep, he could tell that the backs of his knees and thighs would be protesting before they were much further down. The part of him that had studied architecture over the years assumed that they had calculated what gradient of pyramid could be built efficiently with the least number of steps, for a moment he was gratefully distracted by wondering about the mathematics of it but then Arthur spoke again. 

“Is their strength connected to them having no hearts?” 

Beside them Tezcatlipoca was gliding down the stairs effortlessly, “How do you know about that?” 

“We came across one of your warriors in the jungle before we were captured,” said Arthur, already panting slightly, “his leg muscles were too badly ruined for him to move, and he had no heart.”

“You were the ones who killed that warrior? Xiuhcoatl won’t like that,” Tezcatlipoca looked at the warriors going down ahead, “he gets absurdly attached to his progeny.”

“I killed him,” said Merlin, pretending not to see Arthur’s glare of warning, he seemed slightly more in favour here than Arthur, so if any punishments were going to fall then they might fall more lightly on him. “But he couldn’t have recovered, the muscles had completely ripped away from the bones.”

Tezcatlipoca shrugged, “Xiuhcoatl sometimes misjudges what he commands them to do, he’s been with us since we built our first hovels here in disease ridden swamps, but he’s never really understood the physical weakness of humans and how easily they break.”

“Xiuhcoatl isn’t human?” said Arthur, “Are you?”

“As human as you and Merlin,” laughed Tezcatlipoca, then paused, “but then neither of you are entirely human anymore are you?”

“We’re definitely human,” said Arthur.

“Really?” said Tezcatlipoca, “Merlin was born with magic and the immortality that comes with that, just like Chalchiuhtlicue, Chimalli, myself, and my brothers and sisters in this city. As for you,“ He looked at Arthur thoughtfully, “I don’t sense magic…or at least I do, but only as something sleeping deep within the bones of you…but yes, I do sense immortality. No wonder Chalchiuhtlicue thought I’d leap at the opportunity to use your heart.” 

“That doesn’t stop us being human,” said Arthur. 

“Mortality defines humanity,” said Tezcatlipoca, “the two are intertwined. If you live forever what does that make humans; at the very best they’re pets, at worst, nothing but worker bees. How can you possibly get emotional about a creature that dies all the time.”

“That’s obscene,” said Merlin, “how long you live has no bearing on what your life is worth.”

Tezcatlipoca burst out laughing and the disc of shell hanging against his chest rattled on its gold chain and glimmered a rich night-blue in the morning light, “Oh, you are so _funny_ , no wonder Chimalli wanted to keep you. The others are going to adore you. We’ve been so bored.”


	25. Chapter 25

The journey down the pyramid was almost as hideous as Merlin had imagined. Initially Arthur kept talking to him, a light, innocuous conversation to keep Merlin’s mind off what they were doing, but before they were half way down he was in obvious pain from his chest and lapsed into panting silence. Merlin would have taken up the baton himself at that point, but was too breathless from increasingly supporting Arthur’s weight and struggling to keep them both steady. In the silence he could hear people beginning to mill about in the streets below, he assumed it was the normal noise of the city rousing and starting about the day, but he was concentrating far too intently on what he was doing to dare to lift his eyes from the stairs.

When they finally stepped off onto the level paving of the plaza he could feel his calf muscles quivering in protest. 

“They’re hard on the back of the legs the first few hundred times you go down them,” grinned Tezcatlipoca, “you’ll get used to them.”

Merlin resisted a snort, they didn’t intend to stay here long enough to get used to anything. Arthur reluctantly unhooked his arm from across Merlin’s shoulders, Merlin frowned at the amount of sweat dripping down Arthur’s forehead. “How do you feel?”

Arthur smiled weakly, “I’ll live.”

Merlin rolled his shoulders to unkink them as he looked around. In the milky morning light the plaza was already noisy with a multitude of people preparing for a market. Reed mats were being piled high with brightly coloured fruit, painted pottery, or agricultural tools. Here and there people were tying together wooden racks to display cloth and hanging up bundles of dried fish. Off to their right a group of women were chattering together as they heaved great earthenware pots onto metal supports set over fires and began to fill them with water. “Is this some kind of festival?” 

Tezcatlipoca caught the direction of his gaze, “They’re cooking a ceremonial meal for later. The market’s here every day, but today we’re also celebrating taking a village to the North of here.” Tezcatlipoca swept out one arm to invite them to accompany him through the market. “The temple to Xiuhcoatl is this way, he should be able to heal the spell on Arthur’s heart.”

They were half way across the crowded square when four young girls ran up with garlands of bright pink flowers and Tezcatlipoca bent his head to allow them to drape the garlands around his neck before they ran off giggling.

“It seems as though the people love you,” said Arthur drily.

“We bring them victory over their enemies, bountiful food and stability; why wouldn’t they?” 

They hadn’t gone much further through the market when Arthur suddenly paused. Some small, long-legged dogs were huddled together on a mat and Arthur hunkered down to their level. Arthur had always had a way with horses and hounds, and Merlin watched as one of the younger dogs, black-skinned and delicate as a dancer nervously approached Arthur’s outstretched hand. It was thin as a whippet and Arthur ran a hand over the warm hairless skin. “Do they shave them?”

Tezcatlipoca tapped his foot impatiently, “No, they’re naturally hairless.”

“You’re a good girl!” Arthur scratched the dog behind one large, bat-like ear and its smooth, pointed tail swished the air like a sword. “They’re very quiet for hunting dogs,” 

“They’re naturally mute,” said Tezcatlipoca, “and the itzcuintli are the food, they don’t hunt it.”

“You can’t eat dogs!” 

Tezcatlipoca seemed bemused, “Why not?”

“Because…”Arthur spluttered, “they’re bright, they’re…they’re loyal…and you just can’t.”

“We don’t eat all of them, the humans keep them as pets and hunting dogs as well, but these ones are going to be part of the banquet today.”

Merlin knew how passionately Arthur felt about dogs. “Surely there’s something else?” Merlin protested, “the city seems to have plenty of other food; fruit, vegetables...”

Tezcatlipoca cast an indulgent smile over the masses of people, “But they do so like their meat.”

“What about deer or rabbits?” Merlin had never enjoyed hunting, but the idea of eating dogs repulsed him. 

“All dead,” shrugged Tezcatlipoca, “they’ve hunted everything out of existence, at least within a reasonable distance of the city. An odd deer still strays in occasionally from farther afield, but of course it doesn’t last long once it’s been seen.” 

Arthur’s expression was like thunder, “Haven’t you thought of farming the rabbits or protecting the deer, building the numbers back up?”

Tezcatlipoca scratched his chin, “It seems like a lot of work when there are still plenty of birds left to hunt.”

“I’m not talking about the joy of hunting,” gritted Arthur, “I enjoy a hunt as much as the next man, I’m talking about completely wiping animals out, killing until there’s nothing left, it’s just…wrong.”

“You and your friend do have such odd ideas. Take the dog if you want it so much.” 

Arthur straightened up, “What am I going to do with it?” 

“Then leave it.” Tezcatlipoca was already walking away and the Jaguar warriors were motioning Merlin and Arthur to follow.

Arthur hesitated and one of the Jaguars gave him a sharp shove. The slender dog was already turning back to its fellows on the mat.

Merlin knew Arthur was right, how were they meant to look after an animal when they were captives themselves. And saving the life of one dog wasn’t going to change anything in the grand scheme of things.

Arthur looked at him and gave a half-shrug of apology. Merlin rolled his eyes, but it was all a front, and to be honest he would have been disappointed if Arthur had chosen any differently.

Arthur sighed, “Fine, I want the dog.”

Tezcatlipoca turned back to look at Arthur in astonishment, then seemed to catch himself and glanced at the impassive jaguar warriors before closing his expression down. He nodded curtly to the stall keeper who bowed low and turned away to deal with another customer, apparently Gods were not required to pay for things they wanted. 

Arthur took that as his cue to call the dog back to him and scoop it up into his arms. To Merlin’s surprise the animal curled up meekly against Arthur’s chest, tucking its gangly legs neatly against its body and nudging its pointed nose into the shallow crevice between Arthur’s ribs and his upper arm, snuffling into his cream tunic as though learning his scent.

They followed Tezcatlipoca into the side streets.

Arthur looked down at the quivering, black bundle in his arms, “This was pointless, they’re still going to eat the others.”

“But not this one,” said Merlin.

As they followed Tezcatlipoca through the streets Merlin had to admit that Aztlan was impeccably clean and the people looked well-fed and content. A band of young boys ran out of an alley and scooted past them, lithe and strong-limbed, laughing as they raced each other and Merlin found himself smiling at their exuberance. He looked ahead again, some distance down the street a column of men and women were approaching flanked by more jaguar warriors and with a tall, nude man at their head. He squinted against the sunlight, trying to see the naked man more clearly, it seemed bizarre that he wasn’t wearing even a loin cloth, and there was something about him that just didn’t seem ‘right’ somehow, something too lumpy and unfinished. “What…?”

Beside him Arthur tensed and the dog gave a low whimper.

“Dear Gods!” Merlin breathed in the stench of rot. He wasn’t naked at all, the ‘man’ lurching stiffly towards them was wearing a covering of loosely stitched human skin, beneath it his own muscles gleamed wet and red through the gaps in the sewing. What had once been a human face, but now with neatly cut holes where the eyes would have been, was draped over the raw wreckage of his own face like an obscene mask. Through the eye-holes his eyes gleamed rich, grave-dirt brown.

Merlin looked to Arthur, who had blanched white as bleached parchment, then to Tezcatlipoca who was smiling and had his arms open. “Brother!”

The horror limped forwards and embraced Tezcatlipoca, leaving damp red handprints that looked almost black on the dark blue of Tezcatlipoca’s cloak. When they separated Tezcatlipoca turned to introduce him. “This is our brother Xipe Totec. Xipe, meet our new brothers, Merlin and Arthur.”

When Arthur shifted the dog more firmly into one arm and put out his hand, Merlin was in awe of him, it was taking all his own strength of will not to run in the other direction. 

“Xipe Totec,” Arthur said formally.

Xipe took Arthur’s hand between his own and gripped it firmly, Merlin heard the wet sucking of moist flesh. When Xipe spoke his voice was gravel rough, “Arthur.”

Merlin raised his own hand reluctantly and allowed it to be pressed between the warm, raw palms of Xipe Totec. When it was released it was streaked with pink, Merlin resisted the urge to hastily wipe it on his breeches.

Tezcatlipoca nodded at the line of men and women stretching down the street, “Get the Jaguars to take the villagers onto the temple, I need you to come and speak to Xiuhcoatl for me,” he nodded at Arthur, “this one needs healing.”

Xipe Totec paused for a long moment, then said sullenly, “If I do this, will you free Tlaloc?”

Tezcatlipoca sighed heavily as though this was a well-trodden argument, “You know I can’t do that. When Chalchiuhtlicue is captured then perhaps…”

“It’s been a year.”

Tezcatlipoca spread his hands placatingly, “What’s a year to us, Xipe? Once he draws Chalchiuhtlicue in, then he can go back to you. These two were in Chalchiuhtlicue’s village, they should be able to help us. Then they’ll be joining us.”

“More Gods?” Xipe Totec inspected them in fascination and Merlin felt the hair on his forearms rise in some sort of unconscious recognition of danger.

“We’re not…” began Merlin automatically

Tezcatlipoca interrupted him, “These ones don’t call themselves Gods. But the yellow haired one is dying, you need to make Xiuhcoatl mend him so they can help us.”

“Xiuhcoatl doesn’t like to listen to me anymore,” grumbled Xipe Totec.

“You’re the only one he’ll obey at all, so you’d better make him listen.”

Xipe grunted and motioned for the jaguar warriors to continue escorting the villagers to the temple, he then turned and fell into place beside Tezcatlipoca when he began walking again. Xipe Totec’s shambling gait contrasted starkly with Tezcatlipoca’s fluid, almost oily, gracefulness.

“He’s wearing human skin,” hissed Arthur.

“They’re all mad,” whispered Merlin, “the immortal ones have been alive so long, trapped together, I think they’ve gone mad.”


	26. Chapter 26

“Xiuhcoatl’s temple,” said Tezcatlipoca, as they reached the foot of a stepped pyramid similar to the one in which they’d been held. Merlin tried to keep the dismay from his expression as he looked at the steep stone steps. But to his surprise, instead of going up, Tezcatlipoca and Xipe Tlaloc led them around to the side of the structure and to a small carved door that led into it at ground level. 

One of the Jaguar warriors stepped forwards to push open the door, Tezcatlipoca swept past him and into the pyramid and Xipe Toltec shambled after. 

Merlin looked dubiously at the shadowy stone passage, then at the Jaguar guards by the entrance. “I suppose waiting here with you isn’t an option?” 

One of the guards inclined his head almost imperceptibly towards the door and shifted his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“I think that’s a ‘no’,” said Arthur dryly.

“Perhaps Xiuhcoatl’s the warm and cuddly type of insane,” muttered Merlin.

The guards’ expressions darkened, and Arthur gave them a sunny smile as he shoved Merlin past them and through the doorway, “Don’t mind him, he’s always been an optimist.” 

“They don’t have much of a sense of humour do they?” 

“Not that I’ve seen,” replied Arthur, “so it might be wiser not to antagonise them.”

Merlin snorted, then started and quickly lowered his voice as the noise echoed loudly in the narrow, stone corridor. “Yes, because you’re so diplomatic, criticizing their customs and rescuing their dinner.”

“Sorry, but no-one’s making Lady into a soup.”

“Lady?”

Arthur’s nose twitched, “Too soft?”

The dog’s face was still nuzzled into the crevice between Arthur’s arm and his chest, but Merlin rubbed it behind one pointed, black ear and it whined happily. Its naked skin rippled under the movement of his fingertips and was soft as silk. “No, it suits her.”

The sudden thinning of Arthur’s smile and the flicker of the muscles along his jaw was subtle but Merlin noticed it. “How’s the pain in your chest?”

Arthur gave a small laugh, “Not good.”

Arthur was the master of understatement where pain was concerned and Merlin frowned unhappily. The passageway was windowless and it darkened as it led away from the daylight, at the far end of the corridor a doorway on the left marked where Tezcatlipoca and Xipe Totec had gone and threw a flickering red light onto the opposite wall. If they had any other choice then Merlin would have been strongly advising Arthur to run in the opposite direction, but they started forwards together.

When they turned into the doorway Merlin came to such an abrupt halt that Arthur had no choice but to bump into him. Normally Arthur might have made a pithy comment at that, but all Merlin heard was a soft hiss through his teeth as he too saw the room.

The room was large, but it was the cavernous ceiling melting into darkness far, far above them that made it awe inspiring. Hexagonal gold cells like a honeycomb lined every wall, in some of the cells burned oil lamps and their flickering light glinted off the walls around them. Even though he hadn’t inspected it at close quarters Merlin suspected that the honeycomb structure was made of gold.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” breathed Arthur at his shoulder, “there’s more wealth in this one room…”

Most of the cells didn’t contain lamps but were instead filled with a dark red liquid; how the liquid was kept inside each cell, whether it was by a thin sheet of glass, or whether it was some sort of magical force field, Merlin wasn’t sure. It was the light bouncing off and through this liquid that gave the room it’s overall ruddy hue as though the whole room were bathed in blood. Merlin squinted, there was something inside each liquid cell, something dark and moving rhythmically making the liquid shiver and ripple, he felt the hairs rising on the backs of his arms.

“There you are, come in, come in.” Tezcatlipoca was as blandly jovial as the host at a feast. He was standing at a careful distance from a massive beast that was chained to one wall by weighty gold chains around its feet and neck. It raised a heavy serpentine head as it saw them and emitted a rumbling growl of anger and distress so deep that it echoed around the room and Merlin could feel the vibrations through the soles of his feet. 

“Is that some sort of dragon?” breathed Arthur.

It was a good question, its turquoise scales and strong, clawed forelegs did remind Merlin of Kilgharrah, but it had no wings, and instead of rear legs, the back part of its body ended in a long muscular scaled tail. Merlin searched its eyes trying to evaluate its intelligence, could it be on Kilgharrah’s level or was it more primitive like a wyvern? It seemed to object to his scrutiny and growled again, following up with a bellow of fire that scorched the stone floor only a few feet from where they were standing.

“Perhaps distantly related,” said Merlin, in answer to Arthur’s question, “but I don’t know what it is.”

“This is Xiuhcoatl,” said Tezcatlipoca. The ruddy light in the room made the band of blue across his face look tar-black and his pale eyes gleamed like pearls, he made an elegant motion of his hand, as though he were presenting a visiting dignitary, “he’s a type of coatl. Unfortunately he gets quite grumpy down here, even though we did give him a friend to keep him company.” 

Merlin had dimly noticed Xipe Totec standing on the other side of the room, but it was only then, when Tezcatlipoca nodded towards him and Xipe Totec shuffled to one side, that Merlin saw the figure that he’d been hiding. A handsome man clad only in a white loincloth was bound spreadeagled to the wall. The gold wall itself seemed to have melted outward to encase his hands and feet and then solidified again, holding him in place. The man was listening intently, and his wide dark eyes flitted from Tezcatlipoca to Arthur and then to Merlin, but a leather gag strapped across his mouth made it impossible for him to speak. 

“Who’s that?” asked Arthur.

“Tlaloc,” grunted Xipe Totec, running a gentle hand down the ribs of the spreadeagled man.

“Chalchiuhtlicue’s brother,” explained Tezcatlipoca, “and Xipe Totec’s beloved.” 

It was impossible to guess Xipe Totec’s expression beneath his mask of skin, but the tense way his shoulders went up made Merlin guess that he was angry.

“What have you done to him?” Merlin didn’t know what Tlaloc was guilty of, but surely being fastened like that for any length of time was tantamount to torture.

“A year ago, when Chalchiuhtlicue tried to kill her husband and take over the city, Tlaloc and Chimalli helped her. All the humans who helped her were put to death of course, and as you know Chimalli managed to escape with her. However we caught Tlaloc trying to leave the city.”

Arthur’s horrified gaze was fixed on the spreadeagled figure, “You’ve can’t have kept him imprisoned like that for a _year_?” 

“Oh believe me, if it was up to me he’d have died when we caught him, but the coatl won’t allow it.” Tezcatlipoca scowled at Xiuhcoatl, “He seems to think that magic users are only allowed to kill each other in fair combat in the arena.” His expression brightened, “But once I had time to think about it, I realised that he’s excellent bait to trap Chalchiuhtlicue.”

To be kept like that for a year, Merlin shivered, a mortal man would have died, but Tlaloc’s magic and immortal body would be constantly repairing itself. He found it hard to think of much worse, and the cruelty was so casual that it took his breath away.

Arthur looked at the heavy chains encasing the dragon-creature, “It doesn’t seem as though he could stop you killing anyone.”

“Remember in the jungle,” said Merlin with slow realisation, “the thing that attacked my mind when we killed the injured jaguar warrior? This is it.”

“Yes,” said Tezcatlipoca, “he doesn’t like anyone killing his pet warriors either and he’s becoming less and less tractable. Only Xipe Totec can influence him.”

“I joined minds with him,” said Xipe Totec, his voice wet and raw.

“And lost half his own mind in the process,” said Tezcatlipoca, “not to mention all his skin when Xiuhcoatl started struggling against it and drenched him in fire. He uses human skin to try to make himself presentable to his beloved, but I don’t think Tlaloc really appreciates him anymore, do you Tlaloc?”

Xipe Totec let out a soft, wounded whimper.

The bound man’s gaze flickered flickered to and fro between the people in the room, but what he was thinking was impossible to guess.

Tezcatlipoca turned to Arthur, “Xiuhcoatl has great healing magic, he can fix the spell affecting your heart and make it healthy again. Xipe Totec, you need to tell Xiuhcoatl what we want.”

Xipe Totec shuffled over to the coatl who shook his massive head irritably when Xipe Totec stretched out his hand, but then allowed him to settle one bloody hand upon his shiny turquoise scales. Xipe Totec swayed, and Merlin could hear him murmuring under his breath as the coatl half-closed its yellow eyes. After a few moments Xipe Totec spoke, “He doesn’t want to help, he recognizes Merlin as the one who killed one of his pets.”

“The man’s legs were ruined, he was already dying,” said Merlin, looking into Xiuhcoatl’s enigmatic eyes and wondering whether the creature could understand what he was saying. “I had no choice, please help Arthur.”

“I want him healed,” snapped Tezcatlipoca, “remind him that if he stops being useful then there’s no reason not to seal this temple up with him inside.”

Xipe Totec snatched his hand from Xiuhcoatl’s head as the creature roared and let out a belch of fire that blazed towards Tezcatlipoca. But Tezcatlipoca obviously knew the safe distance to a finger’s breadth and was out of range. 

Merlin wondered whether Tezcatlipoca was making empty threats but he didn’t think so, and would he seal Tlaloc in here too? Even Uther with his burnings and beheadings had been more humane than that.

Xipe Totec was shaking as he replaced his hand on Xiuhcoatl’s head. “Put down the dog and come over here.”

Arthur reluctantly lowered Lady to the floor where she stood whining softly and staring at the coatl. 

Merlin’s gaze met Arthur’s, and his clear blue eyes were an island of sanity in a room full of madness.


	27. Chapter 27

Xipe Totec beckoned Arthur to join him by the coatl and as Arthur walked boldly forwards Merlin’s stomach flipped. The idea of Arthur getting within range of Xiuhcoatl's flame tugged at something fiercely protective deep inside his gut, the fact that the manacles weakened his magic to next to useless didn’t even cross his mind, his only urge was to put himself between Arthur and the threat against him. 

Xiuhcoatl let out a low growl and Xipe Totec snapped, “Stay back!”

Merlin blinked, he’d been so focused on the danger to Arthur, he hadn’t even been aware of walking forwards. Arthur glanced back and quirked him a reassuring smile. Merlin returned the smile with a half-hearted one of his own and reluctantly retreated a few steps.

The coatl seemed to relax slightly as Merlin backed off and when Xipe Totec encouraged Arthur to reach out to it, Xiuhcoatl snuffled his palm; whether he was just learning Arthur’s scent, or whether he was sensing something about the heart spell, Merlin couldn’t tell. 

For a moment Merlin thought the low growling was coming from Xiuhcoatl, but then realised that it was issuing from the little black dog. Despite her small body shaking like a leaf Lady advanced on Xiuhcoatl with teeth bared and ears flattened against her slim skull. 

Arthur looked round in alarm, “Lady, no!” 

Merlin held his breath, frightened to move in case he provoked Xiuhcoatl into flaming. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Tezcatlipoca’s white teeth bared in a wide grin of anticipation and Merlin thought it would be impossible to loathe him more than he did in that moment. 

Xiuhcoatl let out a rumbling snort and lowered his head closer to the ground where it swayed slowly from side to side like a snake tasting the air. Lady’s snarl slowly faded and she edged delicately forwards, sniffing curiously, her nails click-clicking on the stone floor. Merlin could tell that Arthur was tensing to sweep her up and out of the way regardless of the consequences. He desperately tried to think of what he could do to turn the situation around so that they both didn’t end up as incinerated along with the dog, but his mind had gone blank. It was like suddenly noticing a runaway cart careering towards you down a hill and being frozen to the spot.

Then Xiuhcoatl’s head moved and suddenly he was nudging lady in the ribs with his snout, but the movement was gentle and though it shoved the dog sideways she didn’t seem to mind. Lady skittered round in a tight circle and pressed her wet nose against his neck, snuffling loudly, obviously fascinated by the strange scent, her tail suddenly wagging. Xiuhcoatl gave her another little push to one side before raising his neck out of her reach. Arthur’s relief bubbled out in a laugh.

Tezcatlipoca looked as though he’d just sucked on a slice of lemon, “Well, who knew Xiuhcoatl has a soft spot for dogs. Shall we get on with this.”

Xipe Totec turned to a hexagon on the wall behind him that had been left empty to provide a place for storage. He reached reverently into the gold niche to produce a jade bowl carved into the form of a grotesque fanged skull. Unlike the clean freshness of marble, the polished jade had a slick, almost greasy gleam. “Your chest must be bare.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows but said nothing and slipped his white tunic over his head and off. He threw it across to Merlin who caught it with one hand. 

Xipe Totec looked at the necklace of green feathers that rose and fell with the movements of Arthur’s breathing. “Quetzal?” 

Arthur snorted, “Chalchiuhtlicue seemed to think it was funny to call me Quetzalcoatl.”

Within their frame of rotting skin Xipe Totec’s eyes widened till there was more jaundice-yellowed sclera than iris, they rolled to Tezcatlipoca in alarm, “A coatl?”

“Of course he isn’t a coatl, does he look like a coatl?”

Merlin thought it couldn’t hurt to encourage Xipe Totec’s superstition, if he was wary of Arthur it might encourage him to help, “In our land he was called Pendragon, it means something like, ‘son of the coatl’.” 

Xipe Totec shook his head and tried to get his tongue around the unfamiliar word, “Pendragon…”

Tezcatlipoca forgot his caution around Xiuhcoatl and walked forwards impatiently, snatching the jade bowl from Xipe Totec’s hands and thrusting it into Arthur’s, then pushing until the thick, rounded lip of the bowl was pressed against his breastbone. “Hold it there,” he turned to Xipe Totec, “Get the knife.”

“Hold on,” Merlin took a step forwards, ignoring Xiuhcoatl’s warning growl, “what knife? What does he need a knife for?”

“Merlin, it’s alright.”

To Merlin’s mind Arthur sounded far too calm about the whole thing. Xipe Totec turned again to the alcove and retrieved a jade handled knife with a wickedly sharp obsidian blade. As soon as the blade found itself in a person’s hand it began to thrum with dark magic and the jade bowl in Arthur’s hand echoed in sympathy. Merlin could feel it reverberating around the room like a long drawn out bass note just too low to be audible, it made his bones shiver and his teeth ache gently. Merlin’s voice rose a notch, “What do you think you’re going to do with that?”

“Calm down.”

Merlin glared at Arthur. 

“Merlin!” There was something quiet yet forceful in Arthur’s voice that gave Merlin pause. Arthur inclined his head in a mockery of formality to Tezcatlipoca and went to Merlin. He moved in close enough that Merlin could feel the warmth of his skin, and his breath was a warm caress against his ear, his voice too low for the others in the room to hear. “Remember long ago, in the universe we travelled from, do you remember Mordred’s blade?”

How could he forget, it haunted his nightmares even now; Merlin’s back stiffened and his muscles were so taut that he could barely draw in breath to hiss, “Of course.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” said Arthur, “But it’s the same feeling.”

Merlin shook his head, “How can you tell, it was so long ago, it’s impossible to…”

“It’s the same,” said Arthur, “I know it’s a spell, and not something physical like a sword fragment, but it feels the same. I’ve been feeling it tightening around my heart since we woke up in this city.” 

When Merlin began to shake his head, Arthur said his name sharply enough to slap him into stillness, “Merlin!” Arthur caught Merlin’s distraught gaze and held it, grounding him and willing him strength as he added gently, “It doesn’t matter what they do, they can’t make it worse.”

“No!”

Arthur took one hand from the bowl to press a finger against Merlin’s lips, hushing him. He lowered his voice still further, “I’m hoping they’ll heal me, they seem to want us to stay here. If they’re lying, or if they can’t, you need to escape from here on your own somehow. Find Kilgharrah.” 

“I’m not leaving you, even if…”

“Promise me, Merlin.”

Merlin’s clenched his jaw stubbornly, “No.”

“I need to know that if the worst happens you’ll find your way out of here.” 

Merlin huffed a breath to argue, then deflated, “Fine.” he lied.

For a moment Arthur looked pleased, but then stared at him intently before letting out a sigh and shaking his head. 

“You might want to stand behind him ” said Tezcatlipoca to Merlin when Arthur returned, “when Xipe Totec uses the knife Arthur might lose consciousness and he needs to catch his own blood in the bowl.”

Arthur walked back to stand in front of Xipe Totec and settled the bowl firmly against his chest again. Merlin he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around Arthur from behind and hold him through whatever was about to happen, but he knew Arthur wouldn’t appreciate the loss of dignity in front of Tezcatlipoca. So he forced himself to wait a few inches behind him, hands down at his sides, but he still couldn’t stop his fingers fidgeting unhappily.

Xipe Totec raised the knife, intoning a spell under his breath that Merlin strained to make out but could only hear as a rasping mutter. The black blade glinted red in the light as he brought it down and angled it expertly through the ribcage to drive it through skin and muscle and into Arthur’s heart. The hilt made a low thump as it was stopped by his ribs, the blade buried as deeply as it could go.

The only sound Arthur made was a shocked exhale, and Tezcatlipoca gave a small surprised nod of respect. Xipe Totec stepped backwards, withdrawing the knife in one smooth movement. Merlin surged forwards to wrap his arms around Arthur from behind. Arthur’s bare back was warm against his shirt, and Merlin curled one arm around Arthur’s waist, while using his other hand to help support the bowl. Arthur slid blood-slick fingers over Merlin’s, meshing them with his own and pressing them to the slippery jade.

The gold manacles held Merlin’s magic back as it crashed against them like tide waters against a floodwall. He was aware that he was muttering frantic nonsense into Arthur’s ear, but didn’t care if Tezcatlipoca despised him for it. “It’s going to be alright, it’s going to be alright, stay with me, hold on…”

“It’s cut the spell.“ Xipe Totec was talking to Tezcatlipoca as he turned to replace the knife in the hexagonal alcove. And Merlin could feel the change in the vibration in the room, it was tauter and higher now and continuing to rise.

Arthur was slumping backwards onto him more heavily now and his fingers were loosening. Merlin held the bowl in place even as it repulsed him, watching over Arthur’s shoulder as it filled with his lifeblood. His world condensed into dull horror, into the feel of Arthur in his arms and willing him to live. When Xipe Totec tried to take the bowl he was so startled that he resisted, and Xipe Totec almost had to prise it from his fingers before Merlin suddenly realised what was going on and released it. 

Arthur’s legs buckled, and Merlin eased him down into a sitting position on the stone floor, going down onto his knees behind him to continue to support him. His breath was rattling now and there was far, far too much blood, Merlin wanted to somehow scoop it up and force it back into his body, and the metallic stench of blood was joined by the reek of singed skin as the manacles began to heat up on his wrists.

Xipe Totec was feeding Xiuhcoatl, who waited patiently with mouth agape as Xipe Totec tipped the bowl. Arthur’s blood was already congealing and slithered out of the bowl almost like a living thing in a lumpy mixture of liquid and clots, spattering onto a black tongue that quivered with excitement. Xiuhcoatl closed his mouth and the scales on his throat rippled; golden eyes half-closed, he let out a hiss of satisfaction.

The thrumming in the room was high enough now to make his eardrums ache with a sharp pain and Merlin felt that it would break into sound at any moment. He hugged Arthur more tightly against his chest, trying to feel the shallow movements of his breathing. Then abruptly the vibration seemed to snap out of existence, and the lack of it made his ears ring and the room feel suddenly empty.

For a long moment nothing moved but Xiuhcoatl, who seemed to be turning in his chains to get comfortable to sleep. Arthur was motionless in his arms but the blood that had been gushing down over his hands seemed to have stopped, was that because the ritual had worked or because... Merlin looked from Tezcatlipoca to Xipe Totec, but they looked as uncertain as he felt. 

The silence extended and despite the high ceiling the room felt as claustrophobic as a tomb. 

His stomach plummeted and he felt frozen; to speak to Arthur, to shake him, might be to confirm something that he couldn’t bear to know, so the moments stretched. He could feel a massive overwhelming grief hovering in the wings waiting to crash down on him. His jaw hardened and his nostrils flared, once it hit then he’d distract himself from it by razing this city to the ground and everyone in it, he didn’t know how yet and he very much hoped that he’d die in the process, just not before he’d had a chance to find every one of these insane immortals and watch them learn what mortality really meant…

Fingers closed around the hand he had pressed on Arthur’s chest and squeezed it firmly. “Calm down, I’m not dead yet.”

A convulsive shudder ran through Merlin’s body and Arthur’s other hand rubbed soothing circles onto Merlin’s thigh.

“Xiuhcoatl has healed you,” said Xipe Totec.

It was still an effort to move, but Arthur reached up to smear the blood from his chest and reveal it smooth and without trace of a wound. He was lying in a small lake of cooling blood that was soaking into his breeches. He clicked his tongue as though only mildly impressed, “Clever, but better if it wasn’t so messy.”

Tezcatlipoca let out a bark of laughter, “I’m starting to see why your Merlin worships you so.”


	28. Chapter 28

Merlin had to run a shaking hand across Arthur’s chest to convince himself the wound was gone.

“Help me up.”

Merlin ducked under one of Arthur’s arms and held it across his shoulders as he helped him to his feet.

“Call someone to clean up this mess,” said Tezcatlipoca. 

Xipe Totec nodded his head in a broken motion that reminded Merlin of a puppet with one of its head-strings missing; he expected him to leave the room in search of someone, but instead he laid his hand on Xiuhcoatl’s scaly flank.

“What’s he doing?” asked Arthur.

“Telling Xiuhcoatl to bring someone here,” explained Tezcatlipoca.

“How?”

“Xiuhcoatl can talk to almost anyone, the stronger the magic user the more of a bond he has with them, it’s why he can stop Chalchiuhtlicue and the rest of us from just murdering each other outright. With non-magic users he needs more of a bond in order to actually compel them though, which is why I created this,” he waved a hand at the walls.

“The alcoves? I can see them moving, but what’s inside them?”

Merlin could tell by Arthur’s tone that he half didn’t want to know. He could empathise, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was shifting inside those red liquid hexagons either.

“Hearts,” replied Tezcatlipoca. He rotated slowly in the shadowy room, arms outspread, like an actor inviting applause from an invisible audience. “The hearts of anyone important in the city, the hearts of the Jaguar warriors, the hearts of warriors taken in battle, the hearts of anyone who opposes us…” He stopped his slow spinning and leered at them.

Arthur seemed steady enough on his feet that Merlin felt able to move away from him and across to the nearest wall. He was drawn to touch the clear barrier on one of the hexagons and it sparked tiny red sparks that prickled against his fingertips, magic then, not glass. Xiuhcoatl must be maintaining that as well, Merlin looked up at the hexagons disappearing up into the shadows, the power of the coatl must be immense. He glanced back at Xiuhcoatl who seemed to have fallen asleep, “How long has he been keeping this going?”

“Since we began the city,” rasped Xipe Totec, “Four hundred years? Five hundred?”

“At the beginning he helped freely, but after a while he grew restless and we had to take steps to make sure he didn’t leave,” said Tezcatlipoca. 

Xiuhcoatl snuffled in his sleep clinking the golden chain around his neck, the end of his massive tail flicked a random slow rhythm against the floor, Merlin wondered what he was dreaming of, daylight? fresh air?, trees? He had to swallow against the bile that rose into his mouth. 

He turned back to the nearest hexagon, partly to hide his expression and partly to look closer into its depths. Of course he knew what a heart looked like from his studies of medicine. Unlike Albion which prohibited such things, Rome had a long history of examining dead bodies to determine cause of death that stretched back even before the famous autopsy on Julius Caesar, though they were still very rare, even in Rome, and only practiced due to extraordinary circumstances. Merlin had still been lucky enough to sit in on several, and even take the lead on some of them. He’d never seen a heart actually beating though and he had to admit that it was fascinating. And the owners of these hearts were out there, walking and talking and going about their lives in the city. 

The quiet whisper of sandals on stone announced the entry of a slender woman in a dark blue dress. Like many of the women that they’d seen in the market her glossy dark hair was twisted into two long coils that were wound around her head. A wooden bucket thumped heavily against her leg as she carried it into the room and set it on the floor. She sank to her knees, took a cloth from the bucket of water and began cleaning up the blood. Arthur looked at her guiltily, though Merlin thought it was hardly his choice to be stabbed in the chest. 

“I’ve given you a lavish house near the main market,” said Tezcatlipoca, “I hope you will both be at home there.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur, “but we won’t impinge on your generosity for longer than we have to, we’d like to be moving on in a few days.” He glanced at Merlin who widened his eyes and and gave a brief emphatic nod. 

“Nonsense,” said Tezcatlipoca, “you are family now. You could cross the world and not find others like ourselves, we must stick together.”

“I really don’t think…” began Merlin.

“The discussion is closed,” snapped Tezcatlipoca, “you will stay.”

Merlin was about to argue, but Arthur caught his eye and he stilled. He swallowed down his objections with difficulty and they felt like a pebble in his throat, “Thank you.”

“Come!” Tezcatlipoca swept towards the exit, “I will show you to your home.”

Xipe Totec followed Tezcatlipoca and, after meeting Merlin’s worried gaze with one of his own, Arthur did likewise. 

Merlin took a last glance at Tlaloc spreadeagled to the wall, Xiuhcoatl sleeping, and the innumerable hearts beating their silent rhythm, then turned to follow Arthur.

He was almost tripped by the hand that grabbed at his trouser leg. Startled, he looked down to see the woman in the blue dress snatch her hand away. 

“Please,” she looked up at him reluctantly, as though scared to meet his gaze but braving herself to do it, her eyes were huge and dark as blackberry juice. “I need your help, please, I beg you, tonight ask the jaguars to call me to clean your house. I am Xochitl.” 

Xochitl? The name seemed vaguely familiar but he wasn’t sure where he’d heard it.

“I beg you, please.”

The others had already gone out into the corridor, and Merlin sensed he had only a few seconds before Tezcatlipoca would turn back to chivvy him along. He nodded to the woman, smiling as he reached down to cover her hand with his in a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

“Merlin!” It was Tezcatlipoca calling.

“Coming!”

The woman dropped her hand and began slopping the cloth across the floor as though she’d never spoken. Merlin looked at her for a second, and then hurried to join Arthur.


	29. Chapter 29

Unlike the one-roomed dwellings they’d seen so far, the house they were given was indeed lavish; stone-built rooms surrounded a central garden with a cooking area and vibrant flowering plants.The fact that all the doorways faced inwards onto the garden unfortunately meant that windows seemed to be considered unnecessary and there was only one doorway leading from the house to the outside world. The heavy woven curtain that served as a front door was moved by a gentle breeze and beneath it Merlin glimpsed the sandals of the two Jaguar Warriors stationed outside in the blazing sun.

“Relax, we can’t do anything just now and we don’t seem to be in immediate danger.”

“I am relaxed,” snapped Merlin as he tugged the cloth more firmly across Arthur’s dripping shoulders. They’d found a steaming bath ready for them in one of the rooms and had got into it together so that Merlin could rinse Arthur’s blood from himself and tenderly wash the blood from Arthur’s body. By the time they got out the water was as pink as the Mallow flowers that Merlin gathered for his cough-soothing potions. “I’m so relaxed I’m virtually horizontal.” 

Arthur was leaving wet footprints on the stone paving as they skirted the edge of the garden on their way to the room with the sleeping mats. “I can see that, The last time I saw you quite this calm you were chained to a stake in Al Fustat.”

Merlin snorted, “I think I’m entitled to be a bit jittery.”

As they turned into the bedroom Arthur reached for Merlin’s hand and squeezed it, “I’m fine. 

Merlin released a tiny bit of his tension with a deep sigh. “Though just for the record,“ he added as he helped a naked and weakened Arthur sit down on a sleeping mat, “despite what Tezcatlipoca might have said, I do not worship you.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” said Arthur, eyes twinkling as he watched Merlin cross the room, “it’s perfectly understandable.”

“If anything I find you incredibly annoying,” huffed Merlin as he searched through their bags.

“Likewise, and that goes without saying.” 

Merlin looked over his shoulder at him, “ _I_ am not annoying.”

Arthur tilted his head noncommittally and clicked his tongue.

“You’re just saying that because I said it first.” Merlin straightened now and stalked back, trailing Arthur’s only other pair of long breeches and his spare red shirt. 

“Dust!”

“Oh for…” Merlin lifted the clothes higher, “does it matter?”

Arthur rubbed the area between his brows, “Of course it matters, how can I bargain with them if I look like I’ve been rolling in the gutter.”

“You,” Merlin stabbed a pointy index finger in Arthur’s direction, “are entirely too vain.”

“And you’re too lax,” Arthur grabbed the shirt from him and attempted to shake it out, “I took up with a slattern.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up, “A what?”

Arthur looked at him blankly, then his eyes widened in alarm, “I meant in terms of being rubbish with household chores obviously. Not…the other sort of slattern.”

Merlin guessed that Arthur’s mind had leapt back to the way Chimalli had seduced Merlin back in the village and was horrified that Merlin might take his comment the wrong way. That would never do, he couldn’t abide the idea that there could be any awkwardness between them, Merlin’s lips twitched and he stood over Arthur on the mat for a moment before sinking down into a kneeling position with his knees on either side of Arthur’s lap. Arthur’s muscular thighs were warm and hard beneath him. “What? You didn’t mean the…” Merlin leaned forward and licked a stripe up the side of Arthur’s neck, “whoreish sort?”

Arthur looked torn between mortified and aroused, “Definitely not.”

“Well, I don’t know,” smirked Merlin, “I’m terribly mercenary, the result of my poor peasant childhood I suppose. If you offered me the right incentive I could probably be persuaded to do just about anything…” Merlin paused, then added, “Sire.”

Arthur used his palms to rub slow circles on Merlin’s bony hips, “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“You used to like it,” Merlin wiggled his bottom and grinned as he felt Arthur’s erection swell beneath it, “from the feel of it you still do.”

Arthur moved one hand to caress Merlin’s thigh, brushing the fine hair up in the wrong direction. It made pleasant shudders jingle up Merlin’s spine. Arthur smoothed the hair gently back, watching Merlin intently. He did it again, and again, seemingly fascinated by the way that he could make Merlin’s entire body quiver just by a simple touch to his leg. He reached for Merlin’s length, but Merlin pulled his thoughts together with difficulty and shook his head as he batted the hand away. “Uh-uh, incentive remember?”

“But I don’t have anything...”

Merlin pressed one long finger to Arthur’s parted lips and felt Arthur’s warm exhale against the sensitive skin of his fingertip, “Oh, I think you do. A kiss in payment for each thing you want. And I’m no push over, so it had better be a good kiss, I won’t be short-changed.”

Privately Merlin thought that he would happily do anything for Arthur up to and including giving his life for him, and the one warm smile that Arthur gave him in that moment was all the reward that he would ever need. But he kept that to himself. 

Arthur moved both hands to the back of Merlin’s head, burying his fingers deep in Merlin’s tumbled hair and pulling him forwards for a kiss. Arthur’s skin still radiated heat from the warmth of his recent bath and his lips were rose petal soft. The kiss was chaste but perfect, and Arthur pulled away far too soon. Merlin was left staring at him wide-eyed.

“Bargaining is all about pace,” Arthur’s eyes sparkled, “you never put your full offer on the table right away.” 

Merlin swallowed. “What would you like?”

Arthur ran his right hand across his chest, slowing as his fingertips circled the dark pink areolae. Merlin was acutely aware of the way that Arthur’s eyelids fluttered when he accidentally brushed his nipples, Merlin’s mouth was suddenly flooded with saliva and he swallowed. 

He leant forward and Arthur’s left hand helped to guide his head down until he suckled at Arthur’s chest, he found Arthur’s left nipple and it swelled against his lapping tongue like a ripe redcurrant. Too consumed with pleasure to open his eyes, Merlin’s mouth relinquished it and quested blindly right until he found Arthur’s other nipple and sucked it between his lips. Merlin felt Arthur’s groan of mingled pain and pleasure firstly through his mouth, but then, as it continued, it rumbled through him until Merlin’s entire body quivered like a taut string.

“Oh Gods, I can’t…” Arthur sounded breathless.

Merlin dragged his mouth from Arthur’s nipple with a wet smack that echoed round the stone-walled room. “What would you like next, Sire?”

Arthur’s hand fell to his groin, “Please…” He fell bonelessly backwards onto the sleeping mat.

Merlin went up on hands and knees to hover over him. “Payment?”

Arthur’s lips opened and Merlin ducked forward to plunder them, his tongue sliding between Arthur’s teeth. He grabbed handfuls of Arthur’s blond hair, perhaps almost too tightly judging by Arthur’s whimper and for a moment Merlin froze, but when Arthur made no further protest Merlin lost himself in exploring Arthur’s mouth. Merlin wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but by the end of it they were both panting and where their bodies met the skin was slick with sweat.

Merlin reluctantly pulled away, then had to push Arthur’s shoulders back onto the mat when he instinctively tried to reconnect. Arthur’s breath came out of him in a rush and his hips bucked, his erection brushing the inside of Merlin’s right thigh.

Merlin shuffled back, mouthing down the length of Arthur’s body and delighting in every shivering movement of his beloved beneath him. His lips found Arthur’s cock and sank onto it, taking it further and further in, until his mouth was full and he had no choice but to dribble warm saliva down over Arthur’s balls. 

Arthur groaned deeply. Merlin reached down to touch himself, he was boiling with the heat of it all and it was almost painful to hold himself. When he climaxed and when Arthur suddenly bent upwards like a bow and surged into his mouth it was all too much and he let out a cry and fell into darkness

When he came to he was lying on the sleeping mat, and Arthur was curled over him, all tenderness. “How are you?” 

Merlin wriggled back against the rough weave of the mat, everything felt new and perfect and he didn’t care where they were as all was right with world. “I’m fine.”

“You blacked out, are you sure?” Arthur’s eyes were summer sky blue.

“Better than fine.” Merlin closed his eyes as he felt a rush of pleasant feelings gush through his limp body. He opened his eyes, the purple light seeping in from the garden area showed that it was late evening. He suddenly tensed, “Damn, that woman who asked for help, I said I’d call for her.”

Arthur sank down onto the mat next to him, his body was warm and comforting at Merlin’s side. “Well it’s too late now, we’ll do it tomorrow.”

Merlin turned to face him, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.


	30. Chapter 30

The next morning Merlin tried asking after the woman who’d begged for his help, but to his mortification he realised that he couldn’t quite remember her name. He tried a couple of possible names on the guards but was met with blank looks and there were so many people in the city he could only hope that he would run into her again by chance.

The two of them fretted away the next few days while they waited for Tezcatlipoca to gradually relax his guard. 

As one week moved into two the watch on them shrank until they were usually accompanied by just a single warrior. On their side, Merlin and Arthur did their best to pretend to have seen the benefits of the situation and to laud all the good things about the city that they could. And to be fair, they easily found much about Aztlan to praise: the food was plentiful, crime almost unknown, the sanitation excellent, and the citizens seemed happy with their lot and extraordinarily healthy. 

“Providing you don’t take missing a heart into account,” muttered Merlin and Arthur elbowed him in the ribs before Tezcatlipoca could overhear.

Perhaps knowing that he could mobilize every warrior in the city through Xiuhcoatl’s link made Tezcatlipoca confident that a single gaoler was all that was needed. Quite often their only guard was Patli, the high-ranking Jaguar who had led the capture of them after their escape from the village. Patli was taciturn but accommodating to their requests and helped them pass the time by exploring Aztlan. Under the guise of getting to know their new home they assessed the best routes of escape from the city. 

Today Patli had taken them to the walled Royal Gardens, within were groves of exotic trees glinting with orange and yellow fruits that Merlin had never seen before, and fountains built into the walls gushed water through the teeth of fantastical stone monsters. Above the splashing of falling water they could hear fluttering as exotic birds with clipped wings flew from tree to tree, unable to fly high enough to make it out over the walls. Merlin had to admit it was beautiful though he felt an uncomfortable kinship with the birds at the moment.

They’d wondered how a city with no meat supply managed to feed the dogs they kept, but discovered that the dogs were fed a kind of vegetable covered in yellow seeds called cintli that was also ground down and used in all manner of human food as well. To Merlin’s amusement when Arthur had first discovered this he’d seemed almost as outraged by the fact that he was expected to feed Lady vegetables as by anything he’d seen so far.

“You can’t feed a dog these yellow pea things! It’s inhumane.”

“The dogs seem perfectly healthy on it,” Merlin had pointed out, looking at the corner of their bedroom where Lady was happily chewing on a long yellow cob. “And you do realise that outside of spoiled royal hunting dogs the dogs back in Albion mainly survive on bread.”

“Yes, but that’s different, you can’t expect peasants to afford meat and bread is…well, bread. Nothing wrong with bread, it isn’t a vegetable is it?”

“No, but…”

Arthur had just grunted his satisfaction at winning the argument and continued to rant under his breath about the lack of a nice bit of chicken every time he fed the dog.

Lady was with them now, as usual she was trotting as close as she could get to Arthur’s left foot without actually tripping him over.

“I thought you’d killed all the wildlife?” said Arthur, looking up at at a warbling bird with vibrant blue feathers.

“They are brought here as tribute from the villages further away,” replied Patli grudgingly, although he was always polite he never seemed entirely comfortable with talking. From what Merlin had seen of him interacting with other people that was just his way and didn’t seem to be a prejudice against them personally.

“You do appreciate their beauty then,” said Merlin.

“Of course we do,” said a familiar voice from behind him, “we appreciate beauty in all its forms.”

Merlin let out an embarrassingly startled squeak as he turned to find Chimalli standing right behind him. Arthur moved forward aggressively and Merlin caught his sleeve in warning not to do anything rash. 

Chimalli took a hasty step backwards, he was wearing a white loincloth and his red cloak, his chest gleamed in the dappled sunlight like polished bronze. He looked them both up and down, “I see you’ve gone back to the clothes you were wearing when we found you. Such a shame,” his eyes focused on Merlin’s blue tunic and he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being mentally undressed.

He heard a low growl and thought for a moment it was Lady, but then realised that it was coming from Arthur.

“Though the birds aren’t just here for their beauty, they’re here for sport,” Chimalli said, speaking a little too quickly, and Merlin was pleased that Arthur was making him nervous. Chimalli pulled a long wooden tube from where it was tucked into the twisted waistband of his loincloth. A pouch strung on a cord across his chest yielded a sharp dart into his palm and he fed the dart into the end of the tube. 

Merlin didn’t realise what he was going to do until he put the tube to his lips and aimed at the small bird with the glorious blue feathers. “No!”

A puff of air and a slight hissing noise, and then there was the clatter of large leaves as the dead bird fell through them and landed with a soft thump on the ground.

“Why? Why would you do that?” Merlin went over and picked up the bird, the tiny body was still warm and its iridescent feathers tickled his palm.

“Sport,” said Chimalli, his brow furrowing. “And why not?” He offered the blowpipe to Arthur who looked intrigued and almost reached to take it before he noticed Merlin’s glare. 

“I know you’ve never liked hunting…” said Arthur.

“Hunting for food is one thing,” the hand with the bird in it trembled with anger, “but you can’t even eat this, there’s no meat on it.”

“Pure sport, testing your skill,” said Chimalli.

Merlin could tell that Arthur was sorely tempted to try, any challenge of physical skill was something that called to his soul.

Merlin placed the dead bird on the ground and turned to Patli, “I want to leave.” 

“Of course, where do you want to go?”

“They must come to the great plaza of course, the festival is just beginning,” Chimalli’s dark eyes glittered, “they mustn’t miss the celebrations.”

“Merlin?” 

“Fine,” snapped Merlin, “whatever he says, let’s go.”

As they followed Patli and Chimalli out of the walled gardens Arthur looked at Merlin askance, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” snapped Merlin.

“Well, that’s a lie.”

“Just leave it.”

“If it’s about the bird…”

“You were just itching to kill something.”

Arthur sighed irritably, “It wasn’t about killing something, it was about seeing if I _could_. And anyway, I didn’t, so I really don’t know what you’re so peeved about.”

“I thought you’d changed.”

“Honestly Merlin, you can’t blame me for something that I didn’t actually DO.”

“You only didn’t do it because I was there, if you’d been on your own there’d be another dead bird back there.”

“If I’d been on my own then Chimalli wouldn’t have showed me his hunting skills in the first place as it was obviously you he was trying to impress.”

Merlin felt his face flush hot with anger and embarrassment, “I wasn’t encouraging him.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

Their little party had reached the main street stretching towards the largest of the pyramids, the road was bustling with people all going in the same direction. Chimalli glanced over his shoulder to check they were still following and smirked when he saw them arguing. 

Arthur scowled, “I don’t understand why you are getting this all out of proportion, it was just a bird, we kill bigger things than that all the time.”

“But not for _fun_ ,” hissed Merlin, “never for fun. We need to get out of this place before it changes you.”

“Changes ME?” snapped Arthur, “that’s about as insulting as you’ve ever been, and it’s had some competition over the years. What about YOU? Oh no, of course, silly me, I just realised, you’re far too perfect to ever do anything a bit dubious.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“And once again the Great Emrys makes his appearance! Protector of the weak and moral arbiter of the world. Thank goodness I have you to guide me.”

Merlin took a sharp intake of breath and it was a moment before he could reply, “Now who’s being insulting? At least I wasn’t deliberately trying to upset you.”

“You don’t need to, it comes naturally.”

They were in the plaza now and the pyramid loomed ahead of them. People were bustling about amongst the mats and racks of the market and everyone seemed in a festive mood. Chimalli had stopped beside a woman cooking several joints of roast pig on a spit. “Hungry?”

Arthur eyed the food suspiciously but relaxed slightly when he realised it wasn’t dog. “Yes,” snarled Arthur, turning his anger on Chimalli, “and I thought this city never had meat.”

“Ah well, it’s a bit different when it’s a religious festival,” grinned Chimalli and asked the woman for some food. She carved some from the bone and wrapped it in a tortilla before passing it to Arthur.

Chimalli’s expression made Merlin uneasy, he seemed to be watching Arthur too closely and with too much amusement. Merlin couldn’t see what was so funny unless he was just enjoying the sight of Arthur angry and unhappy. Merlin watched the woman carve more meat from the bone for Chimalli and something about the shape of the bone caught at his memories, if he could just see more of it he’d know where he’d seen it before.

The woman sliced another chunk into the tortilla she held in her other hand and suddenly Merlin knew. He whirled on the spot and threw his hand out, knocking the tortilla from Arthur’s hand and making the hot meat spatter down his white tunic and splat wetly onto the ground.

Arthur swore and frantically brushed hot grease from his chest and hands. “By the Gods! That was childish even for you!”

Chimalli was laughing as though Arthur was the funniest thing he’d ever seen and Arthur’s face flushed red, he seemed too shocked to speak but gave Merlin a look full of anger and reproach, turned on his heel and strode away into the crowd before Merlin even had a chance to speak.

Patli looked between them, unsure which of them to stay with, and after a moment made a decision and darted off through the crowd after Arthur.

“It’s human, it’s a human thigh.” Merlin turned on Chimalli.

Chimalli was still chuckling breathlessly and found it hard to reply. The woman passed Chimalli his tortilla and Chimalli took a healthy bite. With his mouth full he finally said, “So? We aren’t going to waste the sacrifices, there’s so little meat in the city.” He gestured with his free hand to top of the pyramid and Merlin looked up to see the steps at the very top were running with blood. A priest was standing near the edge of the platform at the top, holding something red and dripping above his head, behind him and off to one side jaguar warriors were forming an unnecessary escort to a queue of people that trailed down the steps. Unnecessary because the people seemed to be waiting their turn to be sacrificed as meekly and hopelessly as sheep.

“Not everyone’s heart is suitable, and not everyone is worth keeping alive. The warriors captured Chalchiuhtlicue and the rest of the village a few days ago. A lot of the villagers are too old or too young to be useful in any other way but this.” He took another bite of his tortilla. “But in this last act they are very useful. You should try some, it’s really very good.”

Merlin clapped his hand over his mouth as it filled with bile, and as he turned and ran Chimalli’s mocking laughter taunted him until he managed to lose himself in the crowd.


	31. Chapter 31

As soon as he knew Chimalli was lost behind him Merlin changed his route and darted through the crowd trying to catch up with Arthur. He hoped Arthur was heading back to the house and prayed that he hadn’t decided to get himself another tortilla on the way; the idea of it sent a convulsive shudder through him that reached all the way to the soles of his feet. His steps faltered, did Arthur _really_ think he was smug and judgmental? Even if it was said in the heat of the moment, that Emrys comment had to come from somewhere.

Merlin expelled a sharp huff of breath, angry with himself, he shouldn’t have said that to Arthur about the place changing him, he could understand why he’d be so stung by it. He’d just been upset about the bird and protective of Arthur; the idea of Arthur sliding into becoming even a little bit like Chimalli had filled him with horror and he’d blurted it out without thinking. 

He was running down a long sidestreet that looked familiar, and it was only when he burst out of it to find himself by the side of a canal he’d never seen before that he realised he’d taken a wrong turn. He bent over, hands on knees, catching his breath and watching the narrow wooden barges filled with reeds or vegetables that were being slowly poled down the waterway. 

He straightened and looked up and down the canal, he had no idea where he was. He gulped in air. It should be easy enough to orient himself, he looked up over the flat roofs of the houses and could see one of the great pyramids looming above them. His heart sank slightly when he realised that he didn’t know which of the city’s four pyramids it was but he wiped the sweat roughly off his face with the hem of his tunic and set off towards it. 

He plunged back into the maze of streets and when he finally reached the base of the pyramid he recognised it as the one that Xiuhcoatl was chained up in. Perfect, he knew his way from here. He was about to start walking again when he saw Xipe Totec coming towards the pyramid leading a line of, Merlin squinted into the sunlight…were they children? Of all the unlikely things he could have seen, Xipe Totec taking charge of children had to be near the top of them. He wondered whether the children were too used to Xipe Totec’s clothes of flayed human skin to be frightened of him. He didn’t want to be delayed by an encounter with him now and he looked down the street leading off to his right. 

Damn! Patli was rapidly approaching up the sidestreet with Chimalli in tow. Patli must have handed over the watch on Arthur into another Jaguar’s care and then back-tracked in search of Merlin. Merlin didn’t mind meeting Patli, but he really didn’t want to encounter Chimalli again just yet. 

He looked to his left to see what avenues of escape lay in that direction and was surprised to see the dark haired woman who had asked him for help waiting by the wall of the building opposite. She hadn’t noticed him as her gaze was fixed on the line of approaching children, every line of her body spoke of unbearable anxiety, from the way she was shifting restlessly from foot to foot, to the way she was mindlessly wringing her hands. Merlin’s eyes narrowed as he looked again at the line of children, was one of those hers? She hadn’t seemed to want anyone to know that she was asking for help so would it cause trouble for her if Merlin went over to her now? 

While he hesitated, the decision was made for him as the woman noticed him standing there and her eyes widened, she ran across the street, grabbing his hand up in hers and clutching it tightly, “Please, my lord, please save my son.”

“Your son?”

Patli and Chimalli came to a halt beside them. Patli seemed about to admonish Merlin for running off, but when he saw the woman he looked shaken, “Xochitl? What do you think you’re doing touching a god, take your hands off him.”

“It’s alright,” said Merlin, he held on to Xochitl’s hand as she began to snatch it away, scared that she might run off, “I don’t mind, please what’s wrong?”

“My son,” Xochitl turned pleading eyes back to Merlin, “they’re sacrificing him to Tlaloc.”

Normally so imperturbable, Patli looked in dismay at the line of children behind Xipe Totec, “Ollin? Surely not,” he turned to Chimalli, “you would let your own son be sacrificed?” 

Chimalli shrugged, “To be honest I hadn’t realised.” He raised an enquiring brow at Xipe Totec.

“The child is lame,” said Xipe Totec gruffly, “they will be drowned tomorrow.”

Merlin looked at the children who waited quietly behind Xipe Totec, all of them were young but he could see that at least some of them had suffered injuries or diseases that had left them with missing hands or twisted legs and a few of them were blind and being led by the child beside them. Now he knew why everyone in the city seemed so healthy. “You can’t!”

Chimalli sighed, “Which one is he?”

Patli moved down the children and gently ushered a young boy out of the line, he was barely out of the toddling stage, his body only beginning to lose his baby fat, but one leg was obviously gaunt and underdeveloped. “This is my sister’s son.”

Patli was Xochitl’s brother? Of course, Merlin remembered back to the battle in the jungle, Patli had accused Chimalli of marrying his sister and then abandoning her to follow Chalchiuhtlicue.

“He’s grown since I last saw him,” said Chimalli, “it’s unfortunate the leg has gotten worse.”

“I can look after him,” pleaded Xochitl, “I’ll keep him indoors, he’ll never be seen.”

“You’re monsters, all of you,” snarled Merlin at Chimalli and Xipe Totec. He turned on Patli, “And you’re just as guilty for letting them do this to you. They may be immortal and use magic, but they’re still men not Gods, and there are only a few of them against thousands of you.”

“You don’t understand,” grinned Chimalli, “they _like_ the heart sacrifices and the child sacrifices. It’s a price they happily pay to be the strongest, healthiest and most prosperous tribe in the country. And if it’s a price the Gods are asking, then they can abdicate all responsibility for their actions.”

Merlin met Patli’s gaze and saw the sudden guilt before Patli looked away.

Chimalli splayed his fingers across his chest in an exaggerated gesture of apology and bowed to Xochitl, “for a while I lost sight of this and got too involved with you, it took Chalchiuhtlicue to bring me to my senses.”

“She put a spell on you to forget Xochitl and love him,” said Patli nodding at Merlin.

“Which I’m grateful for, Gods should only love their own kind,” said Chimalli, “I was being absurd, it was like a farmer falling in love with one of the many stalks of cintli growing in his field.”

Xochitl flinched. 

“Carry on,” Chimalli said to Xipe Totec, “give my love to Tlaloc when you show him the children.”

Xipe Totec grunted and began to lead the children into the pyramid.

Releasing an agonised wail as her son hobbled past her, Xochitl tore her hand from Merlin’s and threw herself the few paces across the street to fling herself at Chimalli’s feet and wrap her arms imploringly around his legs. “Please, you loved me, I know you did, for the sake of that, please, save our son…”

Chimalli looked appalled, “I don’t want or need a son, especially one that’s flawed.”

“I’m begging you…”

Before Merlin could react Chimalli had backhanded her across the face with such force that it stunned her and sent her sprawling.

“You bastard!” Merlin launched himself at Chimalli and managed to get a solid punch into Chimalli’s jaw. Chimalli staggered backwards but regained his senses before Merlin could hit him again. He muttered a spell that sent a wall of blue light sliding up between them and forcing Merlin away. Merlin cursed and threw himself against the wall which sparked and burned when he hit it but did not yield an inch. He called his magic up to shatter the barrier but the golden manacles on his wrists blocked the surge of power and grounded it harmlessly off into the air. He cried out in frustration as Chimalli straightened up behind the barrier rubbing his chin ruefully.

“Take him back to his house,” Chimalli ordered Patli. Then, to Merlin, “You feel like this now Merlin, but in ten years, twenty? Eventually you can’t help but get used to it, and then perhaps you and I can pick up where we left off.” 

“I’ll never accept what you’re doing, you’re all insane. And Arthur…”

“Tezcatlipoca accepts Arthur because he’s immortal, but he’s not a true magic user and he isn’t worthy of you. In time I’ll have you for myself.”

“I’d rather die,” said Merlin sincerely.

“Unfortunately for you, that isn’t an option,” grinned Chimalli, “you’re going to be here for as long as I want you here.”

Merlin charged the barrier again, and it seared like fire against his shoulder as he shoved against it.

Under the force of Merlin’s anger Chimalli recoiled a moment before he regained his composure. “Patli, take him away before he hurts himself.”

When Patli laid hands on him Merlin almost turned to hit him as well, but then realised the futility of it and his temper cooled into an icy hatred. He stiffly turned away from Chimalli and the wall of energy that shielded him. He helped Xochitl to her feet, whispering as he did so, “I haven’t given up.”

Then he allowed Patli to escort him in the direction of the house and Arthur.


	32. Chapter 32

Raindrops clattered onto leaves and the dark odour of wet earth began to thicken the air. The house they’d been given was built around the edges of a square, central garden and Arthur moved to the doorway to gaze out at it. When he looked to his right he could see the curtained doorway that lead out to the city, the sandaled feet of a single guard were visible beneath the curtain, they weren’t Patli’s sandals. He’d been aware of Patli behind him on his way back to the house, but perhaps once he’d seen Arthur go in he’d retraced his steps in search of Merlin, Arthur hoped so.

He looked up at the grey clouds scudding ahead of the wind. Was Merlin getting drenched? Why hadn’t he followed Arthur back to the house?

“Perhaps because you were behaving like a prat and he prefers to stay well away.” Arthur’s inner voice supplied helpfully.

Arthur shook his head irritably and stepped into the garden, he closed his eyes and tilted his face up into the cool rain. He didn’t know where the “Great Emrys” comment had come from, he’d never thought of Merlin as smug and sanctimonious, but he couldn’t have done much better for an insult if he’d actively searched for something to wound him. Merlin was nothing if not self-critical, and now he would reexamine all sorts of past events wondering if Arthur had been secretly thinking this all along. Arthur let out a quiet moan of dismay. Of course they occasionally got on each others nerves, they’d been a couple for so long it would be peculiar if they didn’t, but he was usually able to bite his tongue and didn’t lash out with comments deliberately designed to hurt.

He’d like to blame it on some magic of Chimalli’s, but he knew it wasn’t anything of the kind, although perhaps Chimalli’s presence was the catalyst for it. Chimalli seemed to have been accepted back by Tezcatlipoca after his little rebellion with Chalchiuhtlicue, and if Arthur unleashed his deep hatred for the man, (the memory of him gently pushing Merlin down onto his back that night in the village still festered in his dreams), then he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to stop before pounding him into a pulp. Which would leave their position in the city tenuous to say the least. Perhaps the worst thing Merlin could have done was to criticize him in Chimalli’s presence, Arthur’s pride had been badly stung by Chimalli’s smirk. And since he couldn’t turn his anger on Chimalli without putting them in danger it rebounded onto Merlin instead. The moment that Merlin slapped the food from Arthur’s hand and Arthur had seen the gleeful expression on Chimalli’s face had been the final straw.

Arthur opened his eyes and blinked the raindrops from his lashes. On his way back through the market he’d seen why Merlin had done it, seen lumps of meat that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for pig roasting over fires, or being dropped into bubbling pots. He’d been stunned, then horrified, then profoundly grateful that Merlin had acted so quickly. He’d considered turning around then and going back to try to find him, but the market was so huge it would be too easy to miss him. Better to carry on to the house and make amends there, Merlin was sure to be right behind him. Arthur felt ashamed to realise that it had never crossed his mind that Merlin wouldn’t follow him.

He couldn’t wait here any longer, the restlessness was driving him mad. Lady had been dozing on top of Arthur’s sleeping mat, but she seemed to sense his change in intent and shuffled to her feet expectantly.

“You ready to go find Merlin, girl?”

Her pointed tail wagged enthusiastically.

“Come on then.” Arthur walked to the front door and pulled aside the curtain. “I’m going out.”

He recognised the Jaguar guarding the door as Tonatiuh. The name meant sunshine and Arthur could only assume his parents had both a keen sense of irony and the gift of foresight as he was one of the most hang-dog, dejected looking men Arthur had ever encountered.

At least at the moment he had an excuse to look thoroughly miserable, his shoulders were hunched against the cold and rain was dripping from the jaguar skull that framed his helmet. The feathers of his headdress were sodden and hung limply on either side of his face, he looked at Arthur as though he was mad. “Where?”

“I need to find my husband, do you know where he is?”

Tonatiuh puffed out his cheeks and rolled his eyes to the heavens. Arthur waited impatiently but apparently the question was too taxing for an answer.

“Don’t all the heart-less have some sort of mental link with Xiuhcoatl,” snapped Arthur, “Patli is probably with him, can you ask where Patli is?”

“Only Xipe Totec has the magic to talk to Xiuhcoatl. The coatl can speak to us, but we can’t speak to him.”

Arthur swore and started walking, the rain plastered his hair to his head and trickled inside the collar of his red tunic to chill his back.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the market,” said Arthur as the warrior fell into step behind him.

The market was pretty much deserted when they reached it, the perishable goods spirited away inside and the rain-proof ones left in the open to weather the storm. No problems with thievery here, thought Arthur, presumably everyone had either had their heart removed and was magically prevented from doing anything anti-social, or they were too scared of being tomorrow’s dinner to risk it. He moved between the mats, skirting the piles of earthenware pots and the stands that had recently held strings of dried fish but now stood skeletal and abandoned like empty weapon racks.

Many streets led off from the market square and he turned around, scanning each one, hoping for a glimpse of Merlin. Well if Xiuhcoatl knew where everyone was then he would go and see the snake creature, maybe Xipe Totec would be there to question it for him. The pyramid that bordered the market was silent now, the heart ceremony had finished and the rain was sluicing the blood from the top to splash down the steps in a frothing pink stream. Arthur looked at the other pyramids further away that towered above the flat city roofs. “Which one is Xiuhcoatl’s?”

Tonatiuh hesitated, but under Arthur’s glare he reluctantly indicated the right one and Arthur set off down the alley towards it. But they were barely out of the market when he spotted Patli and Merlin approaching from the other end of the street.

“Merlin!” He sped up into a jog and was relieved to see Merlin break into a run towards him. When they met in the middle of the street, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. Merlin’s reached around Arthur to clutch the wet fabric of his tunic and pull him desperately tight against his body. The rain battered against their faces and the place their lips met. Arthur broke the kiss for a moment. “What I said back there, I didn’t mean it…”

Merlin grabbed a handful of wet hair and pulled him back into the kiss again. When he released him his dark blue eyes were smiling under lashes heavy with raindrops. “It’s alright, sometimes I do tend to take the moral high ground a bit too confidently.”

“Never,” said Arthur appalled, “you’re my guiding light,” he ran a tender hand down Merlin’s icy cheek, “my polestar.”

Merlin snorted, but seemed pleased, “That’s a bit poetic for you, isn’t it?”

“I thought you were right behind me, why didn’t you come back to the house?”

Merlin shifted in Arthur’s embrace and his gaze slid away. “I punched Chimalli.”

Arthur didn’t know what reaction Merlin had expected but his delighted laugh seemed to surprise him.

“You aren’t annoyed?” Merlin glanced behind them but Patli and Tonatiuh were standing out of earshot talking animatedly to each other, “We’re meant to be keeping up a pleasant front until we have a chance to escape.”

“Annoyed? I’ve been dying to hit him. I just wish I could have seen it.”

“I still wouldn’t have done it, not if it was just about myself, I could have controlled myself. But it’s the children, Arthur, they’re murdering children.”

Arthur slid his hands to Merlin’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze as he took a step backwards, the better to see Merlin’s expression clearly. He hoped he’d misheard him, because if he hadn’t then this was a horror too far. “What?”

“They cull them like cattle, any children with imperfections get sacrificed, Chimalli’s baby son was there.”

Arthur’s gaze flickered to Patli, but he was still talking to Tonatiuh, the normally stoic Jaguar Leader was gesturing with his hands, the side of one hand slapping down onto his other palm in a forceful chopping motion. Arthur couldn’t tell whether he was arguing with Tonatiuh or trying to convince him of something. Either way, neither of them were paying any attention to Merlin and himself.

“He didn’t care about his son at all.” continued Merlin, “Back in the village he did bad things…”

Arthur pressed his lips tightly together, that was an understatement.

“…but he seemed like he was being mis-lead, like Chalchiuhtlicue’s spell was warping him. I thought beneath it all he did _think_ he loved me.”

It took all Arthur’s control to force himself to nod silently so that Merlin could continue.

“But now I think Chalchiuhtlicue’s spell was actually making him seem more human, he’s really just as mad and cruel as Tezcatlipoca and Xipe Totec and the rest.” Merlin looked at Arthur uncertainly, as though wondering whether to voice his next thought. “He still wants me though,” Merlin shuddered, “Arthur, he makes my skin crawl.”

“We’re getting out of here,” Arthur reassured him. “We’ve bided our time long enough, the situation isn’t going to improve any further, we’ve only got Patli as a guard on us most of the time, we’ll make a break for it tonight.”

“We have to get the children out first,” said Merlin, “I think they’re being kept in Xiuhcoatl’s temple till dawn.”

Arthur didn’t disagree but, “What are we going to do with them? We can’t take them with us.”

“If we can free them then Xochitl will try to get them to safety, I’m sure of it.”

“Xochitl?”

“She’s Patli’s sister and the mother of Chimalli’s son. She’ll still be watching the pyramid if her son is inside.”

“You realise this isn’t going to change anything, saving a few children tonight isn’t going to save the next lot from sacrifice.”

Merlin looked down at Lady who had sensed Arthur’s happiness at finding Merlin and, though she didn’t understand the situation, was quivering with second-hand joy. “Saving her didn’t save all the others.”

Arthur nodded. “Tonight then, we get the children out and then we escape this insane place.”


End file.
